Meta-Fic II: Old Thrones
by YukonWolf
Summary: Eight years after Celtic's revolt was suppressed, trouble broils in the Subreddit again. With a new religion from beyond the border spreading its roots and a conglomerate of kings looking to cement their dominance, who will stand against them?
1. Chapter 1

**November 29, five years after the Treaty of the Confluence**

 **A small town in Northern Renora**

In the far north of the Subreddit, it was said that every man with even a shred of common sense would carry two things with him at all times: a cloak and a knife. Protection from the cold, and from bandits, two very immediate threats.

Despite having both, the traveler advancing over the nearly-frozen hills felt a sense of impending doom.

He could barely see the road in front of him, so encrusted was it in frost. The winds, which had briefly given way to a moment of calm, renewed their assault as the traveler made his way over the edge of the hill.

The man lifted a gloved hand over his eyes as the town came into view. It was a small, boring town, probably devoted either to lumber or fishing, but there was a man there he needed to talk to.

He descended down the path into town. What few townsfolk were not in the taverns so late in the evening were already on their way, and they gave the foreigner little mind.

He paced down the alleys for a bit, his hands growing numb. At last, he found his destination: The Drunkard's Respite, fit with a caricature of an alcoholic slumping over a barrel of beer. The traveler shook his head disapprovingly and entered the tavern.

He walked through the crowded bar, ignoring the loud minstrels and patrons that assaulted his weary senses. The foreigner ducked down a hallway in the back, coming face-to-face with a rather rough-looking man.

They locked eyes for a couple tense seconds. Finally, the rough one smiled.

"Why was the war won without being fought?"

The traveler sighed. "Because strength will fail where wit does not."

The bodyguard nodded, opening the door for the traveler. With a nod, the man walked in, bodyguard in tow.

In the lightly furbished room sat a man in a nondescript white mask, its only defining features being two eyeholes. The Mask beckoned for the man to sit.

"Rasera." The Mask spoke in a deep, guttural tone. "Leave us."

The bodyguard nodded silently, exiting the room and closing the door behind him. The Mask nodded.

"A pleasure," the Mask said. He extended his hand in greeting. "Might I inquire as to your name? It's always good to make acquaintances."

"Forgive me, my good sir, but I have important news to deliver." The foreigner remained still, a quiet impatience in his eyes.

"Hmmph. Very well." The Mask folded his arms on the table. "I find it's best to start business transactions with pleasantries. My contact outside the borders was quite insistent on you meeting with me. What do you have to say that could be so important, Vulpix?"

Vulpix took off his cloak and removed a small sigil of a rose. He placed it on the table and met the Mask's gaze.

"I've lived outside the borders for several years. I've seen what life is like outside the Subreddit. Most of it is nondescript, but then I found a new threat, unlike any the Subreddit has seen before." He leaned in ominously. "The Church of Thorns."

Though Vulpix could not see it, he knew that statement had make the Mask smirk.

"The Church of Thorns? They're a wayward religious faction, a nuisance at best. There are more people in this county than there are in their entire Church."

"I knew you'd say that," Vulpix responded flatly. "That's why these letters are so important. There are thousands of them, outside the borders. They'll trickle in, start a slow burn. Already, their leaders consort with the highest levels of power here. We must stop them."

The Mask picked the sigil up gently, eyeing it for a few seconds. He clicked his tongue.

"Why come to me? Surely it'd be easier for you to present this to the nobles of the realm?"

"Perhaps," Vulpix conceded. "But I know you can work against the Church in ways most can't. I know you won't destroy them, but you can weaken them, open them up to a killing blow."

The Mask nodded. "You never struck me as someone who would play the long game. I respect that." He placed the sigil on the table. "You will have my support, but only because I stand to profit."

Vulpix smiled a weary smile. "Such is the way of the world." He grabbed his cloak. "Thank you for your time."

"Anytime," the Mask said. "Knowledge is always good to have. If you're looking for an inn, ask Rasera. He knows a couple cozy spots."

Vulpix nodded, and he opened the door to leave.

"One more thing." The Mask caught Vulpix's attention, and the former general turned to face him.

"Lose the accent. You sound like an Outlander. And you know how the saying goes..."

"There's no greater folly than to trust a man with an accent." Vulpix laughed grimly. "That comes from Arkos, you know."

Vulpix shut the door behind him, walking out of the tavern and into the night.

 **April 2, six years after the Treaty of the Confluence**

 **Inferno Castle, Duchy of Greater Pollination, Kingdom of Pollination**

Queen Inferno CLXVIII was in quite an abrasive mood. Over the course of three and a half weeks, there had been no less than two heretical uprisings and three attempted murders in her court, one of which had been directed at her. Of course, the assassins had all been captured, tortured for information and executed, and the traitorous elements either rooted out or about to be rooted out, but that didn't brighten her mood. On the contrary: the thought that there might be more traitors hiding in her ranks frightened her deeply.

The queen paced down the halls, her footsteps clacking powerfully against the hard stone floor. The castle guards observed her not with the barely concealed lecherousness they usually did, but with deferential fear. She was forty, yes, but she still had the youthful beauty many of her courtiers did not. The guards often, and not too quietly, made lecherous remarks, knowing their queen had better things to do than reprimand them. On this day, though, they knew any wayward glance or comment could cost them their lives.

As she plodded into her throne room, her marshal Jay stood up to greet her, looking both confused and slightly irritated. Inferno smiled sarcastically and gestured theatrically for him to speak.

"Well, Jay? Have you anything to brighten my day? News of a new heresy erupting, perhaps? Another assassin caught stalking the walls? No, wait. It couldn't be that good." She paused. "Smallpox or consumption? Which broke out now?"

Jay coughed uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck.

"You have visitors, my lady."

Inferno laughed. Visitors? Thank the pantheon it wasn't something worse.

"Oh, good. Tell them to leave. I have too much on my mind to entertain visitors."

Jay glanced to the side. "I don't think you can, my lady."

Inferno laughed in indignant surprise. "Who the hell do they think they are? This is my kingdom! Tell them to leave before I send them to the chopping block!"

"They're already here, my lady. They're sitting in the Council chambers."

Inferno's look of sudden, angry shock was quickly masked by a glance of cold disappointment. Jay shrank a little as his queen exhaled, clearly irritated.

"Very well. There's no point in turning them away now, is there?" Inferno's voice was laced with venom, and she was prowling down the hall towards the Council chamber before Jay had a chance to defend himself.

As Jay advanced nervously to her side, she threw open the doors and was greeted by four impatient faces. One of them, clad in a gold-laced gray tunic and similarly styled breeches, lifted his head and spoke.

"Ah, Queen Inferno. Our kindest regards. Forgive the intrusion, but we were quite eager to speak with you." He smiled a wide, unassuming smile, but his eyes belied a deeper, concerning cunning.

Inferno was taken aback by the man's urbane nature, but soon remembered her previous irritation.

"Who the hell are you people? And why are you in my castle?" She leaned on the Council table, her indignation clear. "Out with it!" she added, unnecessarily.

The tallest and youngest of the lot turned to face her, clad in red-tinted armor and towering over the rest of them by at least four inches. "We came to you with a proposition, my lady. I assure you, you don't want to pass this up."

He took a step toward Inferno, unassumingly. In response, Jay drew his scimitar and angled it at the armor-clad man. The red-armored man drew his broadsword in response and stood uncomfortably still, neither of them wanting to make the first move.

Inferno paid them no heed. "You haven't answered my question. Who are you people?"

One of them, a man dressed in the red and gold robes of the Enabler Triumvirs, stepped forward and gestured placatingly. "My friend, we meant no insult, nor did we mean to...irritate your servant." Jay flashed him a scowl before returning his watchful gaze to the red-clad one. "We only wanted to speak with you." He looked briefly at the man who had spoken first, who nodded.

"I am Triumvir Faker of Enabler. The man your servant there is quarrelling with is our Champion Jannis. This man here is Scion Zissman and that quiet lady over there is Anti, a merchant-baroness from the court of Ladybug." Zissman stroked his beard and nodded, while Anti flashed a quick grin in Inferno's direction. Jannis remained deadlocked with Jay.

Inferno stood fully upright, feeling much more secure. "Very well. If you've chosen to give up the advantage of anonymity, you must really want my support." She turned to Jay. "For gods' sakes, put the scimitar down." After a moment of brief unease, Jay complied.

"What do you want?" the queen asked.

"To spread our message of salvation to the people of your Subreddit," Zissman answered. "Our followers are growing in number and influence. The people of this caldera are converting to our religion as fast as our old followers from beyond the mountains are immigrating inside. Still, however, the people of this Subreddit, and more importantly, the leaders, are beginning to resist. We must not allow this to happen."

"Alright," Inferno nodded along. "You want to spread the message of your gods. Fine. I understand that. But what does that have to do with anyone else in this room?"

Jannis piped up. "I accompanied Zissman from beyond the mountains. I lead the armies of the faithful, while Zissman shepherds them towards salvation."

Anti spoke up at last. "Faker and I are his allies inside the Subreddit. I, and my supporters, bring in the funds for this venture of Zissman's, and Faker's minions are our eyes and ears. Enabler's spy networks are unparalleled through the realm. It's how we got in here in the first place."

Inferno pulled up a chair and, taking a seat, waved her hand dramatically. "Great. You all want to ally with the Scion here? That's fine. But what does this have to do with me?"

"We know of your family's power," Faker said as he pulled up a chair, "and we know of how it has waned through the generations. Your grandfather united the Kingdoms of Crosshares and Pollination, did he not? And now look at your realm. Your half-brother pissed those gains away during the Great Revolt and left you with what you had before. Decades of planning, wasted on idealism. Don't you want Pollination to have that power again?"

Inferno grimaced at the mention of her half-brother. "Ignis was a stubborn fool, but he was weakened by idealism. He never outgrew the optimism of the early reign, and it tempered his ambition and his ruthlessness. He spent money on culture rather than on power. It is a wonder he reigned as long as he did."

"Ignis?" Jannis questioned.

"You didn't really think we were all named Inferno, did you?" She laughed condescendingly, earning a spiteful glance from the champion. "On ascension, we choose a regal name. It just so happens that all the monarchs of Pollination chose the same one."

"Jannis and I are still somewhat unfamiliar with your people's customs," Zissman confessed reluctantly. "But we still speak the same language, write in the same script. We all want the same thing: power. It just happens that the power you want is distinctly more...temporal than the power we desire. We will need someone to rule the people while we guide them. We are more than happy to let you have Heroa, should you sign on with us."

Inferno steepled her fingers, contemplating his offer. She gave a cursory look to Jay, who merely shrugged.

"Very well. But I want to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. There's no guarantee we could win an all-out war, but if I play the game right, we can come out on top without spilling a single drop of blood. Well, in public."

"How long will that take?" Jannis questioned.

Inferno shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure. A few years, at least."

"Years?" Jannis let his disappointment sneak into his voice, but Zissman waved him away.

"Patience, my Champion. In those years we can consolidate our power, gain more allies, identify future threats." He turned to Inferno. "We have a deal?"

She nodded. "On the condition that polytheism is permitted within the borders of Pollination, and that I lay claim to Heroa."

"Then we are in accord," Zissman nodded. "We will stay in contact. My friends, let us leave."

Zissman, Faker and Jannis exited, but not before Jay could make one last glare at Jannis. Anti was the last to leave, smiling and giving Inferno a small bow before following her compatriots out the back entrance. When the door closed, Jay turned to his liege.

"My lady, forgive me for questioning your judgement, but do you really trust these men?"

Inferno smiled a bit. "No, Jay. I most assuredly do not. But look at the bigger picture!" She stood up and began walking down the hallway back to the throne room. "What do we stand to gain from this?"

"What do we stand to lose?" Jay muttered to himself, and he followed his liege down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

**May 27, 4 years BTC**

 **Crown Castle, Duchy of the Crownlands, Kingdom of Night's Watch**

The violent crack of splintering wood echoed through the castle as the old Outlander and the young nobleman sparred in the courtyard. The Outlander swung his sparring blade above the young man's head, only for his target to somersault under it. As the young man stood up again, he felt his trainer's boot plant itself between his shoulder blades before the ground rushed up to meet him.

Ringing, and the taste of blood. He tried to climb to his feet, but he felt the blunt wooden point of his instructor's sword on the back of his neck.

"Damn," he grumbled. The old man merely laughed.

"Celtic, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Your form has improved remarkably; you nearly had me there a few times." The Outlander gestured disappointedly towards Celtic's legs. "Your stance, however, is lacking. If an enemy puts their weight into a strike, you'll fall."

Celtic II grumbled. "Yes, Yokei."

Yokei chuckled. "So glum, are you? You'll have plenty of losses in life. Don't let this one get you down. If you really want to work on your stance, talk to Greatness. The man's built like an ox." He leaned down and helped his young pupil up.

"I'm flattered, Yokei!" Greatness' booming voice invaded the courtyard and the pair turned to face the source. Greatness and Yukon strolled into the courtyard, hands folded behind their backs. Yukon was without his mask; a rare sight in the castle.

"How's Junior doing?" Yukon asked lightheartedly. Celtic rolled his eyes at him but failed to repress a smirk.

"His form is good," Yokei remarked, "but his stance is lacking. I was hoping one of you could teach him the things I can't. Greatness?" He looked at the mercenary, who wiped the hair off his face.

"Of course. Anything to make sure that Celtic's favorite nephew doesn't get himself hurt." Yokei, Yukon and Greatness all laughed while Celtic rolled his eyes once again.

"Ah, well." Yukon looked up at the sun. "It's about midday. Greatness, should we fetch Maker? She's been in her lab for a while. We don't want her to be in one of her brain-addled dazes again, do we?"

"Definitely not," Greatness said as they began walking off. "Remember the time she was so entranced she nearly fell off the walls? Let's get her before the fumes do."

Yokei stretched his back before turning to his pupil. "Ah, they're good folk. We're lucky they're on our side."

Celtic cocked his head. "How so?"

The Outlander made sure that Yukon and Greatness were out of earshot before leaning down to speak with his pupil. "You see, they're good people, but they're underhanded. They don't follow the rules. It doesn't make them bad people, but it makes them dangerous people."

"Dangerous how?" Celtic asked.

"When you battle an honorable man, you must play to his weaknesses, you must counter his technique. If he's strong, you must be quick. If he's aggressive, you must be calm. If he's erratic—"

"I must be patient," Celtic finished. "I understand all the techniques and counters."

"Yes," Yokei said. "I know. But if you ever have to face an underhanded man, and as Celtic's heir, you will, you must know this: there is no counter. You must fight on their level. You must stoop below them. If they cheat, you must cheat more. There's no advantage in fighting with honor against the dishonorable. You have to play like them or you will lose. Understand?"

Celtic nodded, soaking in this sobering information. "Yes, Yokei." He paused, looking up at the sky. "It's midday, like Yukon said. Should we go get lunch?"

Yokei laughed at his ward. "Yes, Celtic. I think we should."

 **July 28, 8 ATC**

King Coronam of Renora sat in his carriage, gazing placidly out the window at the gray White Rosian landscape. Rubia was always so drab in the fall. So rainy. So glum. Nothing like the brilliant red and orange forests of his home.

His advisor Opifexa sat across from him with her legs crossed as she gnawed on a pear she had brought with her. Coronam looked even more distracted than usual. She took another bite and leaned over.

"My liege, what is bothering you?"

His response was curt and filled with venom. "That bitch Inferno."

Another bite. "What of her?"

Coronam rubbed his temples and groaned. "She's far too ambitious for anybody's good. In the last two years she's restored her family's union over Crosshares and restored the Fan-Art League with those infernal little Cofvyan states. She is expanding far too quickly for comfort. How? How is she doing it? She must have help. But from whom?"

Opifexa wrenched the last morsel of pear off of the core and set it in the basket she brought with her.

"I could always have Cinder investigate. He's good at producing results."

Coronam waved her off. "No need. We can stop her bid for power here. The Mod Council will certainly vote against this measure."

Opifexa saw through his illusion of confidence, but she held her peace. "If you say so."

"Are we fighting this wrong, Opifexa?"

The blonde-haired advisor cocked her head, taken aback. "Fighting this...wrong? How so?"

Coronam sighed and slumped back. "A wise man I once knew told me there was no point in fighting an honorable war against a dishonorable opponent. He told me that we had to be worse than they were. He told me that we had to fight like them, because that was the only way we would win." He sighed. "Should we fight fire with fire? Or should we take the high ground?"

Opifexa stroked her chin and pondered the question, but before she had a chance to respond, the carriage came to a jolting halt. The driver descended from his seat and brusquely opened the carriage door.

Coronam nodded to Opifexa, and they stepped out onto the muddy White Rosian ground. By the Almighty, Coronam thought, even the air seemed steeped in gloominess. He sighed, straightened his crown and began making his way up the steps to the Mod Council's citadel.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Prime Minister of Guns N' Roses walked up the steps, his advisor in tow. Both wore matching cloaks, embroidered with the mountain and the rose that made up Guns N' Roses insignia on the back. Coronam sped up slightly to keep pace with them.

"Prime Minister Nitesco. Minister Gwydion." He nodded at both of them, and they nodded back.

"King Coronam," Nitesco responded. "How fares Renora these days?"

"It fares well. We had a good summer for mining. Found a few gold deposits near the north mountains. And how fares Guns N' Roses?"

Nitesco shrugged. "Not bad, not bad. This year hasn't been particularly good or bad. I'm up for reelection in February, so maybe something good will happen. I don't particularly need the help, but it's always good to have a cushion."

Coronam nodded. "Such is the fate of republics, no offense. At least you kept a king."

"Kings are what got us into the Great Revolt," Gwydion commented while smirking. "No offense."

The Renoran king laughed. "Oh, you haven't lost your touch, Gwydion."

They made their way down the halls into the Mod Council chambers, taking their respective seats at the table. Eleven heads of government sat at the large round table, their advisors standing closely behind them. Only one seat was left empty.

Coronam reclined in his seat and looked to either side of him. To his left sat Duke McDouggal, leader of the Interteam League and Duke of Milk and Cereal. They exchange a curt nod of mutual respect.

To his right sat Colonel Strike, one of Arkos' five Oligarchs. Behind him stood the Presbyter of Crocea, dressed in priestly white robes.

At long last, the missing Councilwoman arrived. Queen Inferno strode in, emanating superiority, and her bodyguard strode along beside her. At last, she took her seat.

"Figures you'd be late to your own meeting, Inferno," Coronam remarked, and several other Councilmen smirked. Inferno smiled unassumingly.

"Fashionably late, my dear Coronam. Fashionably late. Now that I'm here, let the proceedings begin, yes?"

Coronam grumbled. "Very well. Let us recount the proposition brought by Queen Inferno. She proposes to unite the Subreddit under a single Emperor." He paused, glaring in Inferno's direction. "Or Empress."

Inferno raised her hands in a placating gesture. "My friends, my friends. Do not fall for Coronam's honeyed words. He plans to paint me as a tyrant and a power-hungry dictator."

"He doesn't need to paint you as those," Opifexa muttered. Coronam silenced her with a wave of his hand, but he could not suppress a smirk.

Inferno continued, ignoring Opifexa's snide commentary. "The truth is, we need a strong, central authority to govern this Subreddit. Without it, we will continue to squabble and war amongst ourselves, when we could all move towards one common good under one common ruler. Think of it! No more infighting. No more needless intrigue. No more Great Revolts."

Coronam cleared his throat and sat up straighter.

"Beyond the mountains that make up our caldera, there is a bounty of new land to conquer. But alone, we are too broken and too decentralized to do anything. If we are to persevere, then we must unite. Otherwise, we will continue clawing over scraps while the rest of the world advances without us."

Murmurs of discussion. Each Councilman glanced around the table, wondering which side the others would vote for and judging accordingly.

Coronam did the same. He didn't need a majority to succeed, but Inferno's influence was quite extensive. Who could he count on to vote with him?

Nitesco and Gwydion were conversing quite grimly, as were the Arkosians and the Bumblebeeans. Since the non-monarchies and the League representatives had to gather the support of their entire governments, they voted beforehand. Knowing Guns N' Roses, they almost certainly voted to keep the realm decentralized. He looked over at Strike and Zealander. Strike gave a nod. Two votes against Inferno.

McDouggal, Princess Canada and the Bumblebeean representatives were less certain. He was fairly sure Canada and the Bumblebeeans would vote with him, but he couldn't be sure. McDouggal's face was completely placid. He was a wild card.

The three Heroan representatives: Nuts and Dolts, Eclipse and, of course, Inferno of Crosshares, would certainly vote against him. Who did that leave?

The Archpresbyter of Gelato knit his hands together grimly. As the representative of the Villainian Straightist churches, he had full authority to act on his own. He, too, would most likely side with Inferno.

King Cesario III of Emberald and King Vermilion of White Rose. Of course. Another unpredictable vote. Coronam knit his hands together and weighed the probability of his success.

At last, the deliberation ended, and the Councilmen gave their attention to Inferno. She stood and announced her vote.

"I vote to pass the legislation, so that we may be united under one ruler, as elected by a Diet of the Subreddit."

Coronam was unconcerned. This was expected. He exchanged glances with Opifexa before turning to Nitesco, who was slated to vote first.

The Prime Minister stood and folded his hands behind his back. "The legislature of Guns N' Roses has voted against the legislation."

The Bumblebeean representative stood and announced his vote: "The Oligarchy of Bumblebee has voted against the legislation."

Colonel Strike stood and cracked his neck. "The Oligarchy of Arkos has voted against the legislation."

Coronam took a glance at Inferno. She did not seem the least bit surprised, but her eyes betrayed a sliver of worry. It gratified him immensely.

It was McDouggal's turn. He stood up uneasily, his crown leaning slightly off his head.

"The Interteam League has voted to abstain from this legislation."

The Council looked around, surprised. Abstaining was allowed, but it most certainly did not happen often. Coronam exchanged worried glances with Gwydion and Nitesco.

Princess Canada stood. "The Ilian League has voted against the legislation."

With the republics, oligarchies and Leagues having voted, the Archpresbyter of Gelato stood. "The Archpresbyterate of Gelato has voted for the legislation." He coughed raspily and sank back into his cushioned seat.

With the republics, oligarchies, Leagues and spiritual leaders having voted, it was the monarchies' turn at last. Vermilion stood to deliver his vote.

"The Kingdom of White Rose votes in favor of the legislation."

Coronam grumbled, and Inferno smiled. She knew that with the Church's sway over White Rose, Vermilion's vote was guaranteed.

Coronam stood up and delivered his vote. "The Kingdom of Renora votes against the legislation." He locked eyes with a smug Inferno as he sat back down.

Nuts and Dolts and Eclipse voted with Inferno, as expected. The only vote left unaccounted for was Emberald's. All eyes turned to look at an uneasy King Cesario. He stood.

"The Kingdom of Emberald votes to abstain from the legislation."

The rest of the Mod Council gasped and began talking to one another. To have one abstaining vote was rare, but two was unheard of. Coronam and Inferno locked eyes across the room. Their steely glare silenced their compatriots.

"You don't have the votes to continue, Inferno." Coronam grinned triumphantly.

"Not so," Inferno stated. "The Guidelines of the Mod Council state that to pass legislation, I need a majority vote, with a limit of _one_ abstaining vote. If two or more Councilmen abstain, the legislation is deadlocked."

Coronam narrowed his eyes. "Then we are at an impasse."

"Also untrue," Inferno said. "In cases like these, the Guidelines state that I can either revote, drop the legislation, or call a Diet." She paused. "I wish to invoke my right to a Diet."

The entire room was uncharacteristically silent. Coronam narrowed his eyes at Inferno.

"Then a Diet there shall be." He turned to the still-silent assembly. "What are you all still here for? The session's over. Go home."

Ignoring Inferno's victorious grin, Coronam stormed out of the Mod Council citadel, Opifexa tagging behind him. They stepped into the carriage and waited for the driver to pull away in tense silence. Once certain nobody could catch a stray glance of him from the citadel grounds, Coronam let out a ferocious scream.

"That whore! That scheming, conniving bitch! Who is she to act like she is already Empress? How dare she-" He stopped himself, folded his hands in his lap and counted to ten.

"She won't get away with this."

"No," Opifexa said. "She won't. I assure you, my liege, we will take care of this."

"You're damn right!" Coronam exclaimed, but he wrestled his anger back under control. "Tell Cinder it is time. I want him to bribe, blackmail, cajole and extort his way through the entire four corners of the realm. We must win this Diet."

Opifexa nodded politely, and they both returned to staring out the window at the dreary White Rosian landscape.


	3. Chapter 3

**September 14, 8 ATC**

 **City of Prosthetium, County of Armed and Ready**

 _Crack!_

The first of the punks fell to the ground with a satisfying thud, blood trickling out of his broken nose. He cradled his face while his two friends charged the assailant.

 _Whack!_

The second one received a knee to the groin, which was quickly followed with an uppercut to the jaw. He plummeted backwards, barely conscious and a tooth lighter than he was before.

 _Thud!_

The third punk was slammed violently into the brick wall of the alley, momentarily stunned. As he staggered sideways, a fist to the stomach sent him spiraling to the ground.

All three of them lay there, bruised, bloody and cowed into submission. The first one wiped the blood from off his nose and took one last defiant swing at the assailant. His face exploded in pain again as the attacker rammed the underside of her fist into his already broken nose.

"Oh, shit," he muttered to himself. The punk looked to either of his friends for support, but one was unconscious and the other was immobilized by pain.

"Fuck!" He cried out weakly as the attacker paced over to him. "We won't mess with farmer McCanical anymore! Promise!"

Looking down on him, she smiled. "You know what this is about, then?"

"Yes!" He groaned, holding his bloodied nose. "Please don't hurt me anymore! We'll stay away from his farm, we will. We will! I'll tell my friends too, when they wake up. Just leave us alone!"

"First," she said, and she leaned down next to him. He shuddered with fear.

"Do you know who I am?"

The punk nodded. "Everyone knows who you are, Austin."

"Then you know not to trifle with me. Don't go looking for revenge, kid. It's not worth it."

The punk nodded affirmatively, though reluctantly. Austin smiled at her handiwork, scooped up one of the punk's teeth and began the trek to the farms outside the city.

Austin walked along the poorly cobbled city streets, making her way through the bustling crowds of the mercantile district before finding herself in the main housing district. All the sounds, all the bright clothes hanging from the clotheslines strung above her head, reminded her of the day she first arrived in Prosthetium.

Soon, the smell of manure and decay reached her, and she quickly hurried out of the city limits, into the wide and sprawling countryside fields.

Out there, the air was cooler and crisper than the dense, smoke-filled air of the city. Austin soon found herself walking in a reverie as she made her way down the main road, taking in all the peaceful sounds of the birds and the field animals as she watched the ever-darkening sky. After about half an hour of relaxing walking, she saw Farmer McCanical's farmhouse come into view, and she quickened her pace.

The dirt road up to the farmhouse was scattered with manure, which Austin took great care not to step in. These were her last pair of boots.

As she walked up the steps to McCanical's hovel, the door swung open, and the bearding old man who had hired her smiled.

"I take it those three young bastards won't bother me again?"

Austin smiled and shook her head. "They won't be bothering anyone again. I have a memento, if you'd like it." She tossed him the tooth she had picked up earlier, and McCanical caught it. He examined it, smiling sadistically.

"Oh, my only regret is that I wasn't there to see it. Were I ten years younger I might have done it myself."

Austin laughed with him and lingered in the doorway for a moment.

"I hate to be this way, but about my pay…"

"Oh, yes." McCanical retreated into the house for a minute, returning with a small sack of coins. He tossed it to Austin.

With a smile, Austin nodded and opened up the pouch. To her unpleasant surprise, the coins were mostly bronze, with a smattering of silver coins nestled at the bottom.

Noticing Austin's displeasure, McCanical frowned slightly, embarrassed.

"I know it's not as much as you expected. The farm's stumbled on troubled times, and money's a bit thin. I-"

"Please," Austin interrupted. "Charles. It's not a problem." She pocketed the pouch with a partially feigned smile. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Wait," McCanical stopped her as she turned around. "At least stay for dinner. My children will be back from the fields and my wife will be back from the market soon. She makes a mean mutton stew." He smiled genuinely, making Austin feel guilty.

"No, it's fine, honestly." Austin patted him on the shoulder. "Have a nice night, Charles."

The old farmer smiled. "You too, Austin. May the Goddess watch over you."

"And you as well." Austin gave a final wave and departed.

Austin shoved the bag of coins into her side pouch as she began the trek back into the city. The sun had nearly fully set by now, and that meant that the pubs would be open. She tallied in her head how many drinks she could buy and still afford to pay the inn bill.

By the time she had reached the inn she frequented, the sky was completely black, save for the spillage of stars. The pub was rowdy and crowded, with several men and women huddled around tables and booths, playing cards and conversing merrily. Miraculously, she found an open seat at the bar counter, and beckoned to the tender for a mug of beer.

A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she whirled around, ready for a confrontation. There was no need.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Austin! Small world!" Two of her friends hung over her, smiling.

"Jelo! Kazehh!" She smiled widely and shook their hands in greeting. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Kazehh grinned and took an empty seat next to her. "There's no occasion, just a coincidence. We've both finished our jobs out in Heroa, and we decided to come home for a bit." He gestured to the tender, who delivered Austin's beer to her. "I've got this round."

"You don't have to do that," Austin smiled. Kazehh put the coins on the counter, ignoring her.

"Nonsense! I'm not strapped for money. And besides, it's from Jelo's pockets."

Jelo waved at his belt and found that his money pouch had disappeared. Kazehh laughed and tossed it back to him.

"You wiseass! I should've let that arquebusier shoot you."

"Then who would have saved you from that angry guardsman?"

"Touche." He gestured to the bartender for a mug of ale.

"So what have you two been up to?" Austin asked, sipping her beer.

"Kazehh and I have been frolicking around Heroa for the past few months. We've been doing some work for the Mask." Jelo took a swig of his ale. "It pays well."

" _Very_ well," Kazehh specified. "And what have you been up to?"

"Not much," Austin lamented, draining the last dregs of her beer. "I haven't really traveled outside Rubia in the last few months."

"Well you're in luck," Jelo said as he swigged his ale. "A mutual friend of ours set us up with a contact here in Armed and Ready. In fact, he should be in one of the back rooms right now."

"Really?" Austin sprang up at the prospect of actual work. As much as she liked Farmer McCanical, running errands for him wasn't her idea of a fulfilling career. "Will you let me tag along?"

"Well I didn't tell you just to brag," Jelo said, smiling. "Kazehh, are you ready?"

He responded by downing the bottom half of his beer and turning the mug over on the bar. "Let's go."

The trio walked into the back room, where Kazehh rapped an odd rhythm on a door in the back. In response, they heard a clack and a creak as they rusty door was unlocked and dragged open. Before them stood a somewhat suspicious man, dressed in a black cloak with blue silk imprints along the seams. He smiled.

"I see you've brought a friend."

"Is that a problem?" Jelo asked, somewhat apprehensive.

"Not at all. The more the merrier. Please, step on in."

The cloaked man shut the door behind him as they entered, and he beckoned to a table in the middle of the surprisingly well-lit room. They sat.

"Greetings, my friends." He spoke with an odd drag on his voice, not quite like an Outlander but definitely like someone close to the north. Maybe Monochromian or Icebergian, but probably Renoran, judging by the silk. "I have heard much of you two. As for you," he said as he turned to Austin. "You, I have not heard about. Who might you be?"

"Austin," she stated flatly. "Who are you?"

"It's considered rude to ask that question of your employer." His expression darkened, then lightened again just as quickly. "But I like your directness. You may call me Cinder."

"Nice to meet you, Cinder," Kazehh interjected dryly. "But if you have work for us, I'd like to get to it. Happy hour ends soon," he clarified.

"Fair enough." Cinder pulled out a small envelope, marked with a seal of a small bowl and sword. The seal of Milk and Cereal.

"I don't know if you've heard or not, but there's going to be a Diet soon. I have contacts in the court of the Interteam League, and King McDouggal has been getting paranoid. He's sent out notices for mercenaries to supplement his escort, and I can get you three in the door. I've heard that you two have a reputation for morality, which grants him a bit of extra security. Can you vouch for her as well?"

"She's probably a better person than either of us," Jelo noted jovially, and he patted Austin on the back.

Cinder chuckled. "Very good. The Diet is in mid-October. I can secure you speedy passage to Milk and Cereal, and you'll be there in less than four days. Sound good?"

The trio exchanged affirmative glances before returning their focus to Cinder. "I think we've reached an agreement," Austin confirmed. "But what of our pay?"

"Your pay is negotiable, but not with me. Take it up with McDouggal." Cinder nodded. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"And with you." Kazehh nodded to Cinder as he and his friends left the room. The door closed behind them, and Cinder bolted it shut.

As they walked back into the main room, Jelo broke the silence. "So, who's excited for the Diet?" He opened his arms theatrically, hoping for a response.

"I definitely am," Austin said. Finally, she could get out of Armed and Ready. Peaceful as it was, there weren't a lot of opportunities for work, and Milk and Cereal was sure to be a change of pace at least.

"Happy hour's nearly over," Kazehh intoned.

Austin laughed and turned to her friends.

"Don't worry, boys. Drinks are on me."

* * *

 **September 28, 8 ATC**

 **City of Renora, Duchy of Flower-Power, Kingdom of Renora**

Coronam sat pensively in the Council chambers, waiting for the Arkos delegation to arrive. He knit his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. On either side of him, Opifexa and Cinder pored over their papers and documents, trying to figure out if there were any other lords that they could bribe, blackmail or negotiate with for votes.

"Cinder," Coronam mumbled. His spymaster looked up from the sheaf of papers in front of him. "How was your visit to south Rubia?"

"Bumblebee is a parliament, and their members vote individually. I tried to sway as many as I could, but I couldn't do it all directly, so I make no promises.

"The claimant states were much easier to sway. Most recently, the Countess Jillian of Armed and Ready has been...convinced to vote against Inferno, as have most of the Bumblebee offshoots."

Coronam nodded and leaned back in his seat, his doubts soothed. "Opifexa."

Opifexa looked up from her documents. "Yes?"

The creak of the chamber doors interrupted her, and the three of them diverted their attention to their visitors. Through the door, the Arkos delegation came: the five Oligarchs and General Zealander, the Oligarchy's official Advisor.

Colonel Strike nodded to Coronam and beckoned for his fellow Oligarchs and Zealander to sit. Coronam turned his attention to the General, who possessed an odd sort of familiarity about him. The sound of Strike's voice prevented him from exploring that line of thought further.

"How has the work in Rubia gone, Coronam?"

The Renoran king sat back in his chair, somewhat disappointed with his own progress. "Progress has been slow, but we have managed to sway several leaders over to our side. Even so, Inferno's hold over Rubia must be stronger than we originally thought."

"And what of McDouggal?" One of the Oligarchs spoke up, patting down the hem of his priestly robe. "The Interteam League holds votes vital to our cause."

"He has received the mercenaries he requested," Cinder informed him. "If he is a man of any honor, then he will vote with our bloc."

"And how goes the campaign in Heroa?" Opifexa took the opportunity to ask her question.

Strike steepled his hands disappointedly and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Zealander.

"We expected Heroa to vote as a bloc with Inferno. Most of Heroa was unassailable, but we managed to gather a not-insignificant number of votes for ourselves."

"And Villainia?" Coronam questioned.

"Much more of a mixed bag. I will have our agents work harder to sniff out potential voters for as long as we can."

"I will have the Arkosian Archpresbyter try to negotiate with them," Strike said. "A good portion of Villainia is Straightist. It seems, though, that the new Church there is undermining their influence."

"The new Church?" Coronam leaned forward, concerned and intrigued. "What is this new Church you speak of?"

"The Church of Thorns," Strike explained, "is a new religious movement that originated beyond the mountains. They have some elements similar to our religions, but they have a Scion who leads the entire religion. Zissman, I believe he is known as."

"Their Church is militant too," Zealander elaborated. "We believe they had a hand in the Yurist Uprising that struck three years ago. Similar episodes of violence occurring in provinces they preach to are becoming more and more common, but we've gathered nothing concrete."

Coronam nodded slowly, considering the new development. "Good to know. Good to know." He stood and bowed towards the Oligarchs. "Thank you for your time."

"And yours as well." All six returned the gesture and turned to leave.

"General Zealander?" Coronam called out, and the General turned to face him. "If I may have a word?" He gestured for Opifexa and Cinder to leave.

As soon as the Council Room was empty, Coronam sat down facing Zealander, who merely eyed him with a latent curiosity. After a moment, Coronam smiled.

"I knew I recognized you. You never could fool me, Vulpix." He laughed heartily, and "Zealander" couldn't help but smile.

"You always were too perceptive for your own good, Junior," Vulpix laughed. "Did the beard not fool you?"

Coronam chuckled. "Not for long. Where have you been all these years?"

"Outside the borders," Vulpix answered. "Beyond the North Mountains. I stayed with Yokei in his village."

"He's still alive?" Coronam smiled. "He was a tough old bastard."

Vulpix chuckled. "He still is, though age softened him up a bit. How did you get to be the King of Renora?"

"Marriage," Coronam replied. "Zentics died two years after the war ended, but he was sterile and had no children. His only living relative was his niece, who was betrothed to me. After I took the throne, I used my uncle's remaining loyalists to clean slate, and all traces of my identity were buried." He paused. "And what of you?"

Vulpix shifted in his seat and thought for a minute. "The Yurist Uprising in Arkos was in full strength when I returned. I made my way back to Arkos, thinking that maybe the problem would solve itself before I got there. I was wrong.

"The Oligarchy was unable to effectively manage the military, so I arrived, made the gamble of revealing my identity, and offered them my services. So desperate were they that they appointed me the head of the new Military Advisory Committee and gave me a new identity. I suppressed the rebels, though it took a few months, and I became official Advisor to the Oligarchy."

Coronam shook his head. "They let you live? Personally, I wouldn't have, not with your reputation." He coughed. "No offense."

Vulpix smiled again. "None taken. By then I had cemented my influence over the power structure of the nation. Any effort to remove me would have damned them as well." His smile dimmed. "Arkos is mine once again."

"So it seems," Coronam remarked. They sat in silence for a bit. "I believe it's best you be on your way. It's a pleasant surprise to see you alive and well."

"Indeed." Vulpix shook his old friend's hand. "Farewell, Junior."

"Farewell, Vulpix." The General nodded a final time and left the chambers.

The five Oligarchs were waiting impatiently outside. As Vulpix exited, Strike walked beside him.

"Do you think we have a chance to defeat Inferno?" he asked. "If what you've said is true and the Church does have their hands in it, then it may be in our best bet to abstain from this vote."

"No." Vulpix turned around and eyes all of them fiercely. "We cannot give Inferno or the Church any advantage. We must all rally to defeat them, because we have no chance to do it separately. Am I clear?"

Strike sighed. "Yes."

"Very good." Vulpix turned around, and they continued walking through the halls of Coronam's castle.


	4. Chapter 4

**October 4, 8 ATC**

 **City of Sang-Divin, Duchy of Sororae, Triumvirate of Enabler**

Vinpap and Faker sat in the living room of Vinpap's mansion, gazing out the window as the sun set on the city. Faker looked over at Vinpap, nodded knowingly and drained the glass of wine he held in his hand. As he set out pouring another, they heard the doors of the room open, and the last Triumvir of their number strolled nonchalantly into the room.

"Well, well," Faker said as he smirked triumphantly. "I told Vinpap that you would be late, but I didn't expect you to be so tardy." He began sipping his refilled glass. "You never cease to impress me with how little you care for the matters of statecraft."

Triumvir Contramundi rolled his eyes and sat down at the remaining chair in the room. "I was attending to a rather serious matter, for your information." He glared at Faker and turned toward Vinpap, who arched an eyebrow at him questioningly. "You see, a merchant who visited our city…"

"We can discuss this later, Contramundi." Vinpap waved him off as he straightened in his chair. "I'm not getting any younger, you know. And the fact that both of you asked for this meeting to happen astounds me. I was beginning to believe you'd never agree on anything." He laughed to himself and offered the bottle of wine to Contramundi, who grabbed it. "What is the purpose of this meeting?"

"The upcoming Diet, Vinpap." Faker sipped his wine. "We want to know where your vote will go. Towards unity…" He glared at Contramundi. "Or towards the petty squabbles that have kept us from advancing for the past five hundred years."

Contramundi sneered as he poured himself a glass of wine. "Vinpap, don't listen to this sellout. He thinks that by sacrificing our freedom to the whim of some autocrat, he can gain something. What is it Inferno promised you? Wealth? Power? My head?" He smiled and sipped his wine.

"He resorts to slander yet again!" Faker gritted his teeth. "For your information, Inferno has promised me nothing. The only thing I have to gain from this is what we all have to gain: prosperity. Peace. An end to the instability that has plagued us for so long. Contramundi would end our chances of uniting for his own pursuit of power. You're just afraid that the new monarch would see what a self-serving ingrate you actually are and remove you from your position."

"For someone who speaks so fondly of peace," Contramundi noted as his wine continued to disappear, "you are very eager to attack." He turned back to Vinpap, who had his head leaning on his hand, unimpressed.

"What Faker has forgotten, Vinpap, is that with a total monarch, we must surrender our sovereignty. Enabler, since the days of the early Subreddit, has survived, despite the opposition of so many others. Aside from the dark days of Celtic, which are still fresh in my mind, we have been a free nation for nearly five hundred years. Are we willing to sacrifice our nation and our legacy for a selfish whim?"

"Celtic was a tyrant and a madman," Faker said. "If we vote in favor of a monarch, we get to decide who they might be." He sighed and paused. "The real question is: are we willing to sacrifice our only chance at peace for Contramundi's ambition?"

Vinpap paused and rubbed his temples. He stood up, shaking his head, and he grabbed his cane and his wine glass in either hand. He sipped his drink as he walked over to the window.

"I have been Triumvir longer than either of you have been alive. I have seen men just like both of you squabble and bicker until the only thing left of their legacy is how long they spent fighting." Another sip. "That is not what I will allow our legacy to be.

"Enabler has progressed and thrived through the ages, despite great opposition." He gazed out the window at the city, watching its many denizens below bustle through the streets. "They called us savages, degenerates and hedonists. And yet we persist."

Vinpap gulped the wine and turned back towards Faker and Contramundi. "We have persisted because we are craftier and wilier than any other people in the Subreddit. We have persisted because we have the freedom to resist." He walked back to his seat and set down his near-empty wine glass, sighing. "I will not vote in Inferno's favor. An absolute monarch would shackle our people's autonomy, the autonomy that has allowed us to survive. For the nation of Enabler, I must side with Contramundi."

Faker stood, incensed. "You can't be serious! After everything you've seen, after all the infighting and wars, we've been given an opportunity to end it all, and you're just going to let it pass by?"

"Enough, Faker," Contramundi said, smirking victoriously. "He's made his decision."

"And no amount of campaigning will change it, Faker," Vinpap added. "This session is over. Leave me."

"I-" Faker stammered, but he quickly fell silent. "As you wish." He and Contramundi bowed and left.

As they walked away, Contramundi grinned smugly. "Better luck next time, Faker." With a laugh, he made off towards his mansion.

Faker watched him as he walked away, pondering how he would deal with him. "Soon," he whispered to himself, and he continued on his way.

Upon arriving at his own mansion, Faker closed the door as roughly as he could without knocking it off its hinges. Angrily, he marched into the dining hall, where three guests waited patiently for him to arrive.

Upon seeing Faker distraught, Zissman stood up and sighed.

"I'm guessing that he didn't side with you?" He asked flatly, somewhat disappointed.

Faker's anger gave way to shame, and he looked down sheepishly. "Well, no. Contramundi continues to flex his influence over Vinpap. The old man has practically taken him as a son." He sighed and made a beeline for the wine cabinet, flinging the doors open and retrieving a bottle of wine and four glasses.

Jannis spoke as Faker began pouring the glasses. "While the loss of Enabler's votes is regrettable, it is by no means the end of the game. There is still time, and there must be some minor noblemen you can sway towards our cause."

"If you think it'd help," Anti spoke up, "I can always bribe a few lords and whatnot. There's enough here that with your blackmail and my money, we could outvote Celtic with only Counts."

"I wouldn't get _that_ ambitious," Zissman intoned as Faker handed him a glass. "But I like the way you're thinking. We need to press every advantage we have. Only then can we reach our endgame."

"And what is your endgame?" Faker asked. "You take over the Subreddit and extend the Church's influence. Then what? Is it power for power's sake?"

Jannis laughed, somewhat condescendingly. "You're thinking like a politician. All we want is to spread the message of salvation to the world. Sometimes, though, that requires...unpleasant methods."

"All for the greater good, hmm?" Faker muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear. Zissman smiled.

"Indeed, Faker. Even if you doubt us, surely you can trust in your rewards? You will be sovereign of all of Rubia, and Enabler can finally be the power it was always meant to be." He turned to Anti, who was listening patiently. "And the prestige and the riches of the Logic family will be restored as you've always sought, my dear."

Anti and Faker nodded, contemplating what their future would look like once the Church succeeded. Anti furrowed her brow and turned toward Zissman and Jannis.

"What of Inferno? What will happen to her?"

"If she holds her peace, then we are quite content to allow her to remain in power," Jannis replied. "It would please me to see her in our inner circle. However, I think we all know that that is not feasible, not yet. She is too crafty to be trusted, and none of us should fully trust her until we are sure that she will not strike against us."

"Fair enough," Anti said. "Trust doesn't make good business."

Faker smiled "Very true. But I don't think we should be so preoccupied with it. You're in Enabler, for Goddesses' sakes! Please, allow me to treat you. There's plenty to see, and there's no shortage of things to do." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, prompting the other three conspirators to roll their eyes.

"Not in a hundred years," Zissman stated flatly, "would I ever engage in such debauchery. But I appreciate the offer."

"I'm inclined to agree," Jannis said, nodding. "Who knows what diseases your workers are afflicted with?" He turned to Zissman, who shot him a glare. "And it's all very immoral, of course," he added hastily.

"I know a good deal when I hear one," Anti added. "And there is no way that offer ends well for anybody here."

Faker laughed jovially and drained his glass of wine. "Suit yourself. Can I offer you a bottle for the road? A gift, of course." He produced three bottles from the cabinet, each a deep, rich red.

Anti shrugged and took a bottle. "I might as well. Thank you kindly, Faker."

"Anytime." He turned to the Church representatives. "A bottle for either of you kind sirs?"

Zissman smiled and waved him away. "I appreciate the sentiment, but we have enough already."

"Speak for yourself," Jannis said, smirking. He grabbed a bottle. "Free wine is always good."

"I wouldn't go that far," Zissman joked. "But, if it pleases you. Now, let's hurry along. We have business in Monochrome."

The two gave a small bow to Faker and Anti and exited. As Jannis passed the table, he subtly grabbed the third bottle of wine and made his way out.

Anti and Faker chuckled lightly at the sight, and the businesswoman grabbed her coat. "Always a pleasure, Faker."

"You too, lass. Stay safe." She waved him goodbye and left the room, leaving Faker alone.

Faker took a look at the clock on the wall, which had just arrived at four-fifty. He sighed

"Well, it's five o'clock somewhere," he noted to himself, and he began to pour another glass.

* * *

 **October 27, 8 ATC**

 **City of Guns N' Roses, Duchy of Gunnia, Kingdom of Guns N' Roses**

Gwydion sat in his dimly lit quarters, fiddling and prodding with impossibly well-crafted cogs and metal slivers as he worked on his new project. Though the gunpowder and the projectiles were easy to come by, combining them safely into one mechanism was difficult. One of his assistants had almost been killed during a test firing.

His left arm began to twitch incessantly, as it did every now and again. In frustration, he tore off his dusty apron and hung it up, grumbling to himself.

"Is the arm acting up again?"

Gwydion turned to see Nitesco standing in the doorway of his workshop, leaning on his cane. He smiled.

"Not as badly as the leg, clearly. And not nearly as bad as my project."

"Yes, I heard about that in great detail. In other news, Hetterman has mostly regained motor functions in his leg, and we didn't have to amputate the foot after all. In fact, he's insistent on coming back to work as soon as possible."

"That's the best news I've heard all day." Gwydion paused. "How is the legislature? Have they voted against the movement?"

Nitesco nodded and began turning away, beckoning for Gwydion to follow. "Yes, nearly unanimously. Only four representatives voted for the movement, and with the support of King Frasian VIII, we will dedicate ourselves to stopping Inferno."

The pair began walking through the walls of the Prime Minister's estate, both of them still quietly admiring the lavish decorations, despite having lived there for nearly eight years.

"How is Frasian these days?" Gwydion asked. Nitesco shrugged.

"He's only eighteen. The duties of office weigh heavily on him. Being the face of a country makes a big impression on someone, especially someone who's been brought up with that responsibility. That makes him malleable enough, though I hate to admit it." Nitesco sighed. "I wish he didn't have to bear this burden."

"Well he wanted to, didn't he?" Gwydion said. "I'd want to restore the monarchy's good name if my father was killed and my uncle turned collaborator. His heart's in the right place, and that nagging regent of his is finally out of our hair."

"I suppose," Nitesco said, though both of them knew he had his reservations.

They arrived in the lounge, which possessed a window with an unparalleled view of the city. It was currently being bombarded with heavy rains, but that did not stop Gwydion from going over to the window and marveling at the view. Nitesco sat behind him and sighed.

"I'm worried, Gwydion."

The engineer turned around to face Nitesco. "About what?"

"Queen Inferno. How could Inferno ever be related to such a venomous woman?"

"That can't be what's bothering you," Gwydion noted.

"No, it's not. It's what she's doing that concerns me."

"The Diet?" Gwydion chuckled. "I'm not savvy with Subreddit politics, but I think we both know that's her last gasp. What about it concerns you?"

"The pattern, Gwydion." Nitesco stood, agitated. Gwydion sighed and watched as his friend walked over to the window and stared out at the city.

"These people, these insignificant players keep crawling out of the woodwork and taking the reins." He sighed.

"For three years after Nachbar's death, the criminal world was aflame. Smugglers, spies, thieves and city criminals all feuding over who would take over the Top Shelf syndicate. Then, some bastard crawls out of the mud and ends a three-year war in four months. No doubt you've heard of the Mask?"

"The organization or the person?" Gwydion asked. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. What does he have to do with anything?"

"It's not just him, Gwydion." Nitesco began pacing around the room, rubbing his chin. "The Yurist Rebellion in Arkos, four years ago. Ten times stronger than any other revolt they faced. It raged for two years until that General Zealander waltzes in and polishes it up in five months.

"The Church of Thorns. Three years ago, a handful of proselytizers come from beyond the northern borders. Now, they number in the millions. In three years, they gained more supporters than any other religion could in thirty.

"King Coronam. A pleasant man, but something's off about him. For six years, he's operated in relative isolation, sending a few diplomats here and there. That's it. Now, he's rubbing elbows with every ruler from the ocean to the east mountains. He became the face of the opposition movement practically overnight. And he seems vaguely familiar, though I'm not sure why." He shook his head.

"It's not important. Now, we have Inferno. Celtic's revolt stripped her family of most of their influence and their union over Crosshares. For six years she rules. Nobody cares about her. Suddenly, she starts making moves. She restores the union over Crosshares. She triples her sphere of influence. And now she's making a move on the whole Subreddit. Why? Why do these things keep happening?"

As Nitesco sank into a chair, Gwydion walked over to his side.

"We were nobodies too, once." Nitesco looked up at him, and Gwydion smiled. "And now look at us! Ten years ago, would you have imagined us here?

"I suppose not," Nitesco said. "But I wish we were all here."

The room was quiet.

"So do I," Gwydion sighed. "Who knows? Maybe we will see them again. Or maybe, some nobodies will come and help us."

Nitesco smiled forlornly. "Maybe." He paused. "Would you like to get lunch?"

The blacksmith smiled. "Why not?"

Gwydion helped him up and they began walking to the dining hall, reminiscing on happier times.


	5. Chapter 5

**October 27, 8 ATC**

 **City of Pyrruby, Duchy of Milk and Cereal**

It was around one o'clock in the afternoon when Austin, Kazehh, and Jelo arrived in Pyrruby, and they were surprised by how pristine the city was. Prosthetium was by no means a cesspool, but it certainly didn't have a reputation for robust infrastructure. Pyrruby, in contrast, was remarkably well-kept. There were few beggars, and the streets were paved with mortar instead of cobblestone. All the buildings, wood and stone, were clean. Even the water around the docks was clearer than in Armed and Ready.

"Oh, my," Jelo said, squinting at the pristine towers of Duke McDouggal's castle. "It's straight out of a storybook."

"You could probably eat off these roads," Kazehh noted. "Though I'd rather not test it."

Austin merely gazed at the castle in the distance, watching as the red banners danced in the heavy autumn winds.

"Not to be a spoilsport," she said, "but we do have a job to get to. Shall we, boys?"

Kazehh and Jelo nodded, and they strolled through the city. Several times Kazehh and Jelo were distracted by the wares that the artisans were selling, and several times Austin had to pry them away like a disgruntled mother.

"I swear, you two are children," she grumbled, prying Kazehh away from a painting store. She frowned while Kazehh looked around curiously.

"Haven't either of you been to Junipera before?" she asked.

"Only to Arkos," Jelo explained. "It's always been way too cold to justify travel here. But seeing this…" He trailed off, distracted by a glass-blowing booth. "I might change my mind in the future."

"Especially with the paintings here," Kazehh added. "I might pick up painting again."

"Just like you tried to pick up brewing after breaking into that vinery?" Austin poked, and Jelo chuckled in remembrance.

"Hey!" Kazehh furrowed his brow, but then smiled wryly. "That's better than the time you two stole a chest of iron and tried to smelt your own weapons!"

"At least we didn't need to fumigate the house afterward!" Austin retorted. "We couldn't go back in for days!"

"And besides, I've gotten much better at smithing!" Jelo added, patting the self-made morning star at his side.

"More spikes doesn't necessarily mean better, Jelo." Kazehh patted his crescent axe. "Sometimes, beauty is in the simple things."

"I distinctly remember you stealing that from an executioner on a dare," Austin reminded him, and Kazehh sheepishly patted the blade again. "Besides, you can't go wrong with a good sword!"

She placed a hand on her claymore's hilt, only to feel the cold grip of a metal gauntlet on her shoulder. The three turned around to see a guardsman glaring at them. Austin quickly checked her surroundings and realized that they had not only walked up the road to the castle gates, but they were talking about and patting their weapons in a very suspicious manner.

"Mind telling me what you three peasants want with Duke McDouggal?" The guardsman raised an eyebrow, his voice remaining at a deep, dull monotone. Though his arm twitched towards his blade, he did not grasp it.

Austin produced McDouggal's contract and showed it to the guard. The soldier glanced over the document before looking back at the trio.

"Very well," he said. "Follow me."

The four of them walked up to the castle gate. Six guards stood outside it, eyeing the new arrivals suspiciously.

"Johann, Maria," the guardsman called out to two of the sentinels. "With me. Keep an eye on them."

Two of the guards broke away from the gate as the three passed through, marching behind them as they walked through the castle. Suspicious gazes from the guards uneased them, and Jelo and Kazehh exchanged nervous glances.

At last the tense silence came to an end. The party arrived at the throne room, and the chief guardsman opened the doors with a loud creak. The party walked inside, where they saw a middle-aged man sitting on a medium-sized throne, flanked by a dozen guards.

"Hmm," he said, scrutinizing them. "Are you the three Cinder told me about?"

"Yes," Austin said. "He gave us this." She produced the contract and handed it to the guard captain, who in turn handed it to McDouggal. He glanced at it, and then folded it in his lap.

"And what, may I ask, are your names?"

"I'm Jelo," Jelo raised his hand and waved it at the Duke. "She's Austin and he's Kazehh."

McDouggal's face remained mostly expressionless. "Well, you match the names, descriptions, and mannerisms that he provided me. Guards, you may leave."

The guardsmen exchanged confused glances, but obeyed nonetheless. As they left, they cast backwards glances at the three mercenaries before shutting the door behind them.

"Forgive them. My people are not accustomed to outsiders." McDouggal stood and walked down the steps of his throne.

"That seems to be so," Kazehh noted. "God, if looks could kill…"

"Their hearts are in the right place, I assume, but one can never know for sure. Hence your presence here." McDouggal turned and beckoned for them to follow.

"I was going to ask about that," Austin said. "Why use mercenaries instead of your own men? And why us three?"

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," Kazehh whispered, but McDouggal paid him no heed.

"I chose to use mercenaries because, as you may have heard, there is a Diet coming up. I can't risk any of my guards, however loyal they may be, being bribed. I know that each of them has their weakness, and I cannot risk them being exploited. So, I contacted Cinder, and he assured me that he could find me a few strong, loyal mercenaries. And so he did."

"So what's the deal with the Diet?" Jelo interjected. "I mean, I get the gist of it, but I don't fully grasp the dynamics. Give us a once-over, like we're five-year-olds."

McDouggal chuckled jovially. "If you really want to hear it. Queen Inferno of Pollination put forth a referendum to unite the Subreddit under one rule: an elected monarch. Doubtlessly, she's making moves on the entire realm. Another king, King Coronam of Renora, is leading the opposition to stop the referendum. I need unbribable mercenaries to ensure that I will not be coerced when the time comes to cast my votes."

"And how will you vote?" Austin asked. McDouggal stroked his chin.

"We can discuss that later." He arrived at the guest quarters and turned to his mercenaries. "These are your quarters. Dinner is at five. Do not hesitate to call the servants if you want something."

"Oh, I won't," Jelo assured him as he peered into his room. Austin and Kazehh smiled and turned to thank McDouggal, but he had already disappeared.

"Huh. Speedy guy," Kazehh remarked. "So, what do we do for the next few hours?"

"I bet I can beat you in a game of rummy!" Jelo eagerly cheered. Kazehh chuckled in anticipation.

"That's what you said last time, and the time before that. I didn't even need to steal your money pouch to strip it bare."

"Yeah, but before that I was winning! I figured my luck's back by now!" Jelo began fishing around in his satchel for the card pack. "Care to join us, Austin? I'm sure he can't win against the two of us."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Kazehh said. "She has even worse luck than you do."

Austin chuckled and ran her hands through her hair. "You two have fun with your card game. I'm going to take a nap."

"Suit yourself," Jelo said. "I don't need the help anyways."

"Oh, getting cocky, are we?" Kazehh asked. Jelo furrowed his brow and opened the door to his quarters, gesturing to a large table in the middle. Austin laughed and entered hers, shutting the door behind her.

She paced around the room. A small, circular table sat in the middle, and a twin bed sat in the corner next to a nightstand. A bookshelf rested against one wall of the room, beckoning to her. She decided to read something before she went to bed.

Austin ran her hands along the titles, reading them to herself. Numerous philosophy books, some great fables and epic poems, a few memoirs. Nothing terribly interesting.

One, however, caught her attention like a fly in a net. A medium-sized red book with gold trim. She pulled it out and read the cover.

 _The Collected Accounts of Team ANGQ, by Austin Rufus, Nitesco Gaming, Gwydion Forto and Quixotic Quail._

Austin Rufus.

She perused the pages, unsure of what to expect. She found that it was nothing more than a collection of journal entries of the four ANGQ commanders, as well as personal accounts of the battles by the two survivors. She set the book on the nightstand for later.

"Well, at least he finally got published," she muttered sadly.

She sighed and laid down on the bed, allowing a deep sleep to come over her.

A loud knocking on the door roused her from her slumber. Groggily, she shambled over to the door and opened it, where a bald servant was standing.

"Dinner's on," he informed her, and he beckoned for her to follow. With a sigh, she sluggishly followed him.

By the time they had navigated to the dining room, Austin had woken considerably. She took her seat at the square dinner table across from the Duke, while Kazehh voraciously tore into a loaf of bread and Jelo gnawed at a particularly tough cut of pork.

"Ah, you've finally arrived," the Duke noted. "I would have fetched you earlier, but they told me you were asleep."

"I still was, but it's no big deal." Austin said.

The table was covered in food: swan, pork, beaver, bread, and three places of assorted fruits and vegetables. Austin fought off Kazehh for the last swan leg, took a scoop of carrots and potatoes, and gestured to a servant for a goblet of wine.

"So," Jelo asked, grabbing a carrot. "What's it like being a king?"

"It's not anything like people fantasize it being like," McDouggal stated. "It's not all luxury and good food and expensive things. I have to manage my realm, to defend it, and to ensure that no malcontents threaten the security of the nation."

"And how do you do that?" Jelo asked before he crunched down on the carrot's tip.

Austin quietly sipped her goblet as McDouggal pondered his answer. Goddesses, how long had it been since she had tasted wine?

"As an administrator, I delegate tasks to my assistants. The more stratified my administration, the better. But sometimes, there are tasks I cannot delegate or deny, and these are the issues that are most dangerous to my nation. Often, they require the most...unpleasant remedies." He punctuated this statement by draining his goblet.

"Such as?" Austin questioned. The Duke put another slice of pork on his plate and sighed.

"Sometimes, a King must do… conflicted things to guarantee the safety of his nation. Take the Diet, for example. I have a choice: either I enable Inferno, a power-seeking harlot, or I side with Coronam, who obviously has designs of his own. The priority is to stop Inferno, but in the process, I enable Coronam and his designs."

"Well, what's he planning?" Austin asked.

McDouggal sighed and bit into his pork. "He's planning something, I'm sure. People always look out for themselves before anything else. This is just a fact."

"Well that seems awfully cynical," Austin grumbled. "So what drives people, then? Not morality? Religion? Common decency?

"Only the dim indulge such things as a ruler," McDouggal said. "They're nice things, but they do not belong in rulership. Sometimes, a few people have to be disenfranchised or quieted in the face of these things. Morality is nice, and religion is comforting, but sometimes they must be put aside for the good of the people."

"So, would you burn a village for the good of your people?" Austin asked. "Would you kill your brother for the benefit of your nation?"

"I have," McDouggal said, and a hint of regret entered into his voice. "And I would do it again. These things are regrettable, but they have to be done. Sometimes politics requires sacrifice for the benefit of the people."

"Well," Austin said, picking frustratedly at her food. "That seems very distasteful to me."

"But it must be done, _mercenary,_ " McDouggal furrowed his brow and knit his fingers in a disconcerting manner. Jelo slowed his chewing, and Kazehh took a loud sip of his wine in the hopes that it would drown out the increasingly hostile conversation. "It's always sad when somebody has to die, but it's better than letting the nation suffer for it. The weak-stomached don't have a place in rulership."

"Weak-stomached?" Austin clenched her fork, and Kazehh slurped louder. "Just because I wouldn't commit murder for my own selfish manipulations doesn't mean I'm weak-stomached!"

"Selfish?" McDouggal stood abruptly, and Jelo folded his hands uncomfortably in his lap. "Everything I have done has been for the good of my people!"

"And the needs of the people just so happen to align with what's necessary to keep yourself in power, don't they?" Austin crossed her arms defiantly. From his seat, Kazehh grabbed her arm.

"Austin," he whispered, "Don't piss off our employer." Austin and McDouggal both ignored him, instead staring agitatedly at each other.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," McDouggal hissed. "I've ruled this country longer than you've been alive. I know that everyone, ultimately, has their own agenda. I will do whatever I can to protect my people. I don't care what you think about me, but that is the truth!"

"Your, uhh, magnanimousness," Jelo interjected, "Perhaps we can just...let this argument go?"

Austin and McDouggal stared at each other in terse silence while Jelo and Kazehh remained in their seats, staring at them both. Finally, McDouggal exhaled.

"Fine. At least we can all agree that the business is unpleasant, huh?" He laughed humorlessly and clasped his hands together.

"That doesn't stop you, does it?" Austin stared disdainfully at the Duke, and he frowned.

"I didn't bring you all this way to have you mouth off at me, girl." McDouggal practically spat out the words. "I brought you here to guard me. In the future, keep such comments to yourself, or I may decide to end the contract prematurely." He turned to Kazehh and Jelo.

"Kazehh, Jelo. Enjoy your dinner." He stopped to exchange one final glare with Austin before disappearing into the castle.

A dreadful gloom descended on the room. Austin stared at her plate and seethed. Jelo awkwardly picked at his food. Kazehh continued to loudly slurp his wine.

Finally, Jelo broke the silence. "Austin, I know you're an upstanding person and all that but… can we keep it to a minimum? I really don't wanna lose this contract."

"I concur," Kazehh said. "The Diet's in two weeks. All we have to do is get him there on time, stand around looking threatening, and that's it."

"Can you do that, Austin?" Jelo asked.

Austin stared in silence at her plate. "Yes," she mumbled at last.

"Thank you," Kazehh said.

Austin reached for a potato, and they continued their meal in awkward silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**November 10, 8 ATC**

 **City of Beis, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee**

The group's arrival at the Diet came as an intense relief to Austin. The warm interior of the assembly building was a welcome respite from the cold autumn winds they had spent the last two weeks ferrying and then driving by carriage through. Besides that, there were so many people there, and though Kazehh and Jelo were good souls, the silent war of wills she was having with her employer had made everyone a bit tense. Some time outside that would be good for her.

Austin looked around the ornate foyer. Paintings and fancy drapings hung from nearly every square inch of the gold-painted walls. Kazehh and Jelo marveled alongside her while McDouggal produced three bags of silver from his pouch.

"Well, despite our differences, we made it this far alive, didn't we?" McDouggal asked in a rare moment of genuine calm. He handed each of his mercenary bodyguards a bag. "That's for the first half of the contract. You will receive the rest when we return to Milk and Cereal."

"Well," Kazehh said, tossing the bag up and down. "Talk about a payday. I don't think I've ever been paid so much before."

"Yes, and you can do whatever you please with it. Later." McDouggal turned his attention to a trio of black-cloaked figures standing near a window. "Right now, I must ask you not to leave the foyer. The other nobles wouldn't take very kindly to it."

"We won't, your benevolence," Jelo assured him, his eyes staying glued to the fat sack of silver he held in his hand.

"Come on guys," Austin said, beckoning them over to a table on the other side of the foyer. "We don't want to bother…" She trailed off, noticing someone familiar near the doorway. "Is that the Countess?"

Austin recognized the figure as the Countess of Armed and Ready, speaking with a diplomat from Villainia.

"Well, I'll be," Jelo said. Austin shushed him and nonchalantly listened in.

"Hello, Countess Jillian," the diplomat said, "How are you?"

The Countess, stone-faced, gestured toward her throat, then moved her hands in a "no" motion.

"Oh, dear. Your voice has gone? That's a shame. Will you not speak in the chamber, then?"

The Countess shook her head. Meanwhile, gears turned in Austin's mind.

"Ah, that is most disappointing. I was looking forward to hearing you tear Inferno a new one."

The diplomat laughed, and the Countess smiled. Austin made a quick decision. She got McDouggal's attention.

"Excuse me, sir," she said.

"That's the first time you've called me 'sir,'" he said, frowning. "What is it?"

"With your permission, I'd like to be released from my contract early."

"What?" Kazehh said. "Austin, what are you doing?"

"This is about your Countess, isn't it? I heard it, too." McDouggal said.

Austin nodded. "I know we've made an agreement, so I won't leave unless I have your permission."

McDouggal looked over Austin, as if sizing her up. "If I let you do this, you must forfeit your payment entirely. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes." Austin held out her bag of coins.

McDouggal took it back and sighed. "Do as you will, then," he said with a wave of his hand.

Austin's face lit up. "Thank you, your Highness!" she said. Without a second of delay, she took off in the Countess's direction.

McDouggal shook his head. "Oh, now it's 'your Highness?'" he muttered.

Austin found the Countess walking by herself. She had brought no escort, so Austin had no trouble approaching her. "My liege, may I have a word?" she asked.

The Countess recognized her immediately. She nodded and smiled, encouraging her to speak.

"My name is Austin, and I live in your lands. Perhaps you know of me?"

The Countess nodded dismissively and motioned with her hand, as if to say, _Of course I know of you, what do you want to tell me?_

"I overheard your conversation. I'd like to speak on your behalf in the Diet, to ensure Armed and Ready has a say."

The Countess's eyes widened.

"Hear me out," Austin continued. "You're against Inferno, right? I agree with you, as does any of your subjects. You're unable to speak, but Armed and Ready must have a voice in the coming debate. Please, for the good of your domain, allow me to speak on your behalf."

The Countess stood still for a moment. Then, with a look of resignation, she nodded.

"Excellent! Thank you, ma'am," Austin said. "Now, shall I accompany you?"

The Countess walked over to a set of ornate oak doors before turning to Austin and pointing to a grandfather clock behind her. The time was 10:40. The Diet was scheduled to start at eleven o'clock.

"Ah. Shall I join you when it's time for the Diet to begin?"

The Countess nodded.

"Very well," Austin said. "I'll see you then."

Austin wandered down the hallway, seeking to keep herself occupied. She could barely contain her excitement now, let alone wait another twenty agonizing minutes until she had her chance to shine on the political stage.

As she rounded a corner, she ran face-first into a diplomat from Guns N' Roses. The two cried out in surprise as they collapsed to the ground like sacks of potatoes.

"Oh, shit," Austin muttered to herself, clutching her nose.

"How embarrassing," the diplomat mumbled, and his aide helped him up. The diplomat shrugged him off, grabbed Austin's wrist and pulled her to her feet.

"I'm terribly sorry," Austin blurted out an embarrassed apology. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh, it's no problem," the diplomat laughed. "I should have been—"

The diplomat stopped suddenly as Austin looked at him. His aide, too, put on a surprised expression.

"Is something wrong?" Austin asked. She took an uneasy step backwards.

The diplomat snapped out of his stupor and shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. Nothing's wrong. It's just that…" He turned to his aide, who nodded once at him. "You look familiar."

"Oh." Austin stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "Well, it's good to meet you. I'm Austin." She proudly stuck out her hand.

The diplomat chuckled at this, along with his aide. "It's nice to meet you, Austin," he said, shaking her hand. "I'm Prime Minister Nitesco, and this is Gwydion, my advisor and my chief engineer."

Austin's heartbeat accelerated, while Gwydion smiled politely at her and handed Nitesco his cane, which he had dropped on the ground.

Nitesco and Gwydion?

"It's nice to meet you," Austin stammered. "Sorry for running into you."

Gwydion laughed. "It's no problem at all. That's probably the best thing that's happened to him in years." He chuckled some more as Nitesco swung lightly at him with his cane.

"A pleasure to meet you, Austin. I hope to see you around." Nitesco smiled and bowed his head politely as he and Gwydion continued down the hallway, towards the assembly chamber. Austin walked away in the opposite direction, trying to look casual.

When they were a good distance away from her, Nitesco spoke quietly to Gwydion. "That was weird, right?"

"Weird how?"

"Her name was Austin. And she looked just like him."

"Well, she's a woman, and far younger. But I did notice a vague resemblance."

"Vague, huh? I suppose. But her eyes…" Nitesco sighed. "We have other matters to worry about. I can't let that distract me."

"Something bothering you?" Gwydion asked.

"Is something _not_ bothering you?" Nitesco countered. "The Diet, Inferno, Coronam, everything is bothering me. I'm worried."

"Look at it this way; one way or another, we won't have to worry about the Diet much longer."

"Always a silver lining, isn't there?" Nitesco stopped in front of the doors to the assembly chamber.

"We're early," Gwydion said.

"Yeah, but I can't wait out here any longer."

Gwydion placed a hand on Nitesco's shoulder. "We'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," Nitesco said. "I have a bad feeling about this."

They entered the chamber.

* * *

Coronam sat alongside Opifexa in his position for the Diet, leaning forward with his head resting on his hand. He barely noticed the Guns N' Roses delegation's entry into the room; he was deep in his own thoughts.

"You're grinding your teeth," Opifexa said.

"Is that so?" Coronam answered without turning to look at her.

"It is. You need to relax."

"Relax? How am I supposed to relax?" Coronam demanded.

"At the very least, don't look so tense."

Coronam grumbled. "You try not to look tense. You're not the one trying to keep the Subreddit from becoming a dictatorship. For all its merits, diplomacy is a pain in the ass."

"You've done all you can," Opifexa said. "Just take these few minutes to collect yourself. You're going to do great."

Coronam sighed. "We can't lose this."

"We won't."

"How do you know?"

Opifexa smiled. "Because you never lose."

Coronam allowed himself to smile as well. "That's a dangerous thought to put in my head. But thank you."

Coronam leaned back and tried to prepare himself for what was to come.

* * *

"So, Jay, have you spied any potential assassins?"

"Assassins, ma'am?"

Inferno and Jay patrolled around the assembly, scouting for any undecided votes for them to bribe, blackmail, threaten, obligate, or persuade into voting for their side. Though with her spy network and the network of the Church of Thorns, she had accounted for nearly everybody, there were bound to be a few that fell through the cracks. Of course, she also needed to watch her own back, especially with Coronam on the prowl.

"Yes, assassins. They're the most likely way Coronam or his fellows will strike at us."

"With all due respect, my lady, assassins are the least of your problems."

Inferno glared at her bodyguard, but she kept her peace. As they arrived in the foyer, they were greeted with the sounds of tense discussion between Contramundi and Faker.

"Enough of your campaigning, Faker. Enabler will vote with Coronam, and nothing you can say or do will change Vinpap's mind."

"You had best watch your tongue, Contramundi. You may quickly find it brings you more trouble than it's worth."

"Gentlemen," Inferno interrupted, earning an irritated glare from Contramundi. "Is there a problem?"

"None that you haven't created, Inferno." Contramundi scoffed. "Your pathetic power play is at an end. My only regret is that we allowed it to drudge on this long."

"Don't jinx it, Contra," Faker smirked smugly at him, prompting an eye roll. "You can never reliably predict these things."

"Now, now, be civil, Faker," Inferno playfully admonished him. "Don't sink to his level."

Contramundi smirked. "Too late. I'm going to join Vinpap in the chamber. Feel free to come along. Or don't." He gave a quick, sardonic bow and walked away.

Inferno rolled her eyes. "Quite the man, isn't he?"

"You should try co-ruling with him. I'm lucky Vinpap keeps him on a tight leash."

"Have Anti and the Church members arrived yet?"

"Anti is in the back room, but Zissman and the others have yet to show."

As if on cue, the doors to the foyer opened and, to the surprise and suspicion of the politicians present, several members of the Church of Thorns made their appearance. A few diplomats murmured amongst themselves.

 _The Church? What are they doing here?_

 _Are they going to stick their hands into our politics now?_

 _This doesn't bode well for Coronam._

Zissman and Jannis quickly surveyed the room, spying Faker, Inferno and Jay on the other side of the foyer. With a few handshakes, polite smiles and nods, the Church delegation made its way over to Inferno.

"My lady," Zissman bowed in a show of reverence. "It has been quite some time." His voice dropped to a whisper. "How go the efforts?"

"Heroa is almost entirely mine. Though Junipera is beyond my sphere of influence, Villainia and Rubia have mostly sided with us, but I fear our victory will be a narrow one."

"Have no fear. The Goddess watches over us, does she not? She has delivered you to us, and so she will deliver the Subreddit to you. But of course, we mortals must take precautions." He paused. "Where is Anti?"

"In one of the conference rooms," Faker said. "She's making sure that we've accounted for everyone."

"It's always work with her," Zissman noted. "Very well. We have a bit before the Diet begins. Let's make sure we have everything in order."

"Let's," Inferno said, and she beckoned to Faker, who led them to a rather drab conference room, close enough to the assembly room that they could hear the congregating diplomats through the walls.

"Greetings, Anti," Inferno made their presence known. Anti, who was poring over a thick sheaf of papers, looked up and grinned. "Inferno. Today's the day, isn't it? Good news, I got the other barons to…" Upon seeing Jannis and Zissman, she trailed off.

"The Church is here?"

"Indeed, lassie," Jannis chuckled. "Surprised?"

"To be quite honest, yes. I didn't think you'd want to make yourselves known."

"But it will help the odds that Inferno can project her power even more, no?" Zissman smiled. "Even we like to make a dramatic entrance from time to time. Oh, and Doll says hello."

"Does she?" Anti smiled bashfully, and the tips of her ears turned red. "Nevermind that. I've made a ledger of every ruler here, and who they're voting for."

Inferno picked up the ledger and quickly scanned it before passing it to Jay. "Good work, Anti. And how does it look for us?"

"Very good, my lady. It's a lot easier to, ah, negotiate with other rulers when you can name-drop Queen Inferno. I will note, though, that there are a few we were unable to coerce or bribe over to our side, but luckily, Coronam hasn't either. We don't have a complete majority, but we are very close, so good rhetoric will will this day."

"Fantastic," Inferno said happily. "And what of Countess Jillian? Have you removed her from the field?"

"A lowly Countess?" Jannis asked, somewhat indignant. "What do you have to fear from her?"

"Countess Jillian V is renowned for her oratory skills, my friend," Faker spoke up. "She was the daughter of Queen Jillian IV of Bumblebee and her chancellor. When Celtic dethroned her family, she carved out a loyalist territory on the west riverbank, and she's ruled there ever since. If she convinced any unaligned ruler, it would be the end of our efforts."

"Luckily, we fixed that problem," Anti spoke up. "We didn't want to kill her: that would've raised too many eyebrows. But if she came down with an affliction that temporarily prevented her from speaking, well, it's a terrible coincidence." A devious grin made its way across her face. "And it gets better: she's allowed one of McDouggal's hired guards to speak on her behalf!"

Inferno's boisterous laugh bounded throughout the room. "A mercenary! She must be mad! Oh, all the better for us."

"Indeed," Jannis noted, "But I think we'd best be on our way. After all, the Diet should be starting in a few minutes." He pointed at the clock, and they all nodded.

"Well, see you in the assembly chamber then," Faker said, nodding, and he and Anti went off to join their delegations.

"Good luck," Zissman said to Inferno. "If all goes well, then the Subreddit will be yours without a drop of bloodshed."

"I certainly hope so, Scion." Inferno grinned in anticipation. "Jay, come along. We mustn't keep them waiting."

As they walked to the assembly chamber, Inferno continued laughing to herself. "A mercenary. Can you believe it, Jay?"

"All the better, ma'am. It lowers the bar for you considerably."

Inferno gave him another sharp glare but allowed her bodyguard his passive-aggressive remark. She dramatically flung open the doors of the assembly chambers, and with her entrance, the Diet finally began.


	7. Chapter 7

**November 10, 8 ATC**

 **City of Beis, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee**

The assembly chamber was abuzz with conversation, diplomats, rulers and advisors alike chattering and bickering, waiting for the Diet to finally begin. It was amusing in its own way, Austin thought. Looking to her side, she saw that Countess Jillian did not feel the same way: she was lost in thought, a grim look on her face.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" Austin cocked her head, and the Countess sighed. After a second of contemplation, she turned to Austin and gave her a weary shrug. Austin nodded in understanding and turned again to listen to the crowds.

"When is that woman going to get here?"

"We can't let Coronam have his way. Vote with the Queen."

"Inferno is the future. You're deluded if you think we can change that."

"Nothing but a power grab. But we have no choice…"

The sound of poorly-oiled doors creaking open immediately dimmed the discussion. What conversation remained vanished when Inferno, flanked by her ever-present bodyguard, strode through the doors. The smug grin the Queen wore was enough to make Austin dislike her instantly.

"Inferno!" Coronam stood up on the opposite side of the room and pointed accusatively in Inferno's direction. "Figures that you'd be late to your own damn Diet!"

"Such vulgarity, Coronam," Inferno mused as she took her seat. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when it's coming from a barbarian like you."

"Enough of this!" Nitesco stood up, clearly agitated. "If you're quite done trading barbs, I say we get on with the Diet. No point in making this any longer than it has to be."

"Ah, but it's a bit late for that, isn't it?" A Heroan princess spoke up, clearly exasperated. "If Inferno had heeded the will of the Council, we wouldn't have had to string out what is obviously a pathetic attempt at a power grab."

"My point exactly," Coronam smiled. "As Princess Canada so aptly put it, this is nothing more than the last gasp of Inferno's attempt to bypass every law and institution that supports this Subreddit! We cannot allow this madwoman to install herself as a tyrant!"

A sudden clamor arose as the nobles and representatives stood up to either cheer with or jeer at Coronam and each other. After several minutes of trying to wrangle the crowd under control, Coronam gritted his teeth and stood up.

"Silence!" He boomed, and the conversation dimmed. A few seconds later, the diplomats had returned to their tense, strained silence.

"I will not let this devolve into anarchy! Control yourselves!" Coronam shook his head disapprovingly at the crowds. Austin noticed Coronam's advisor grimace.

"Ah, my dear Coronam, this is exactly why we need a strong authority figure!" Inferno took the opportunity to smile devilishly at him before returning to the assembly. "You see, we have spent so long at each other's throats, so long squabbling with each other over pointless tracts of land that we have ignored a bountiful harvest just outside our borders. There's land aplenty beyond the mountain ranges, but we have been too preoccupied with our own disagreements to do anything about it. If we are to expand without destroying each other in the process, if we are to glorify our Subreddit for everybody's benefit, then we must stand together. We must stand united."

"We've heard that one before!" Colonel Strike, one of the Arkos Oligarchs, stood up. "Celtic supported a unitary state, and half the Subreddit was seduced by his lies. He promised all of us peace and strength, but he ruined us." He turned to face the other four Oligarchs and General Zealander. "Our own Grand General Vulpix brought us into his fold. Arkos has been down this path before, and it only leads to death and tyranny. Never again!" The other four Oligarchs stood up and cheered while Zealander furrowed his brow and clapped slowly.

"Celtic was a dictator." Anti, the merchant baroness from Ladybug, stood up. "All he wanted was dominance over the Subreddit. All he wanted was power. What we want is to join the Subreddit into one harmonious union, so that we can expand and spread our prosperity to those beyond the borders. But to do that we must stand united!"

"How united, I wonder?" Austin took the opportunity to speak. Every eye in the assembly turned to rest on her, more condescending and judgmental than she had expected.

"You see, I was looking at—"

"I'm sorry, who let this common wench in here? This is supposed to be a place of dignity." Faker, an Enabler Triumvir, stood up and wagged his head disapprovingly.

"Figures that a Rubian would be so arrogant." A Villainian diplomat pointed at the Enablerese accusatively. "Let her speak."

"Figures that a Villainian would be so belligerent," An old woman with a heavy south Heroan accent spoke up. "Ignore this common mongrel and let the real players talk."

"Enough!" Nitesco bellowed before chaos had a chance to envelop the assembly. "We are rulers of the realm, not bickering children! Countess Jillian is currently unable to speak, and the rules of the assembly do not forbid a lowborn from holding a seat as a representative."

Coronam shrugged. "I have no problem if you don't," he said, gesturing to Inferno.

"You'll have no objection from me. I am most eager to hear what she has to say." Inferno smiled haughtily, but Austin paid her no heed.

"As I was saying, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," She made sure to cast a damning glare in Faker's direction, much to the amusement of his fellow Triumvirs. "I was looking at the proposed legislation, and it looks to me like Inferno benefits far more from this arrangement than anybody else. Almost all executive authority is taken from the current Council and given to the new emperor." She paused and cast another judgmental glare, this time at Inferno. "Or empress.

"Nonetheless, the only thing that the Council would remain good for would be to vote in the next emperor, a most generous concession on your part, my lady." Coronam struggled to keep a straight face while Inferno's expression darkened with every passing second. "However, in the absence of a two-thirds majority saying otherwise, the successor would default to whoever received the previous emperor's secondary titles. It seems to me, Inferno, that this really is just another power grab."

A wave of murmurs passed through the crowd, more impressed that a lowborn could speak so professionally than at any revelation she might have delivered. Though most of the politicians present were already well aware of what Inferno's legislation entailed, Austin's summary had cleanly changed the direction of the conversation. Coronam smirked in satisfaction along with his advisors, while Inferno knitted her hands with an incensed look on her face.

Anti was the first to respond to Austin's remarks. "What does it matter how the successor is determined?" she said. "The important part of this legislation is the benefit of consolidating power into a single position. The subreddit as a whole will prosper as we are able to act as one against our common enemies. And if the lords of the subreddit take issue with the ruling emperor, the Council is empowered to remove them." Several voices murmured in assent.

"Yes, the Council," Austin replied. "But you'll remember that most our nations do not have a seat on the council. We would therefore have no control over who gets to be the dictator that decides our collective fates. Armed and Ready cannot abide this, and I assume others in our position feel the same." Heated conversation broke out in response to this statement. Cheers rang out from the Faunus Pride delegation, while dismissive grunts came from the Bumblebee representatives.

"Oh, we are not getting into this conversation," Faker protested. "States without a seat on the Council can be given one by—"

"By those currently on the Council with a majority vote in favor of their entry," Austin finished. "But after this legislation is passed, the power to admit new council members will belong to the empress. And I wonder how accepting she'll be to those of us who haven't made ourselves her pets?"

For a second, the assembly hall was silent.

"Who are you to speak to me like this?" Faker demanded, red-faced.

"I am Austin of Armed and Ready. I speak for the Countess. Who are you to talk down to me?"

The hall went into an uproar. Politicians from all delegations shouted across the room, voicing their own opinions on the conversation unfolded. Praises and denunciations of Inferno, of Coronam, and of those who had spoken blended together and became a sea of indecipherable noise. The commotion lasted for a full minute before one man managed to get the others to quiet down. With hand gestures and a calm, clear voice, he instructed all present to settle down. When the room had been brought to a manageable level of noise, he addressed everyone.

"My friends, my friends." It was not a royal nor a diplomat who spoke, but a mild-mannered man in red robes befitting a priest. Scion Zissman.

"This is no way to act. Taking shots at one another while in the midst of what could be the most historic advancement in your people's history."

"What would you know of our customs, Outlander?" One of the Arkosian Oligarchs stood up and jeered at him, only to be met with distasteful glares from his fellows.

"Ah, this is what I mean, my friends. Such division! Such infighting! The Subreddit is split in two over a petty dispute, when you could be moving forward as one!

"My Church came to this Subreddit to escape persecution and hatred in our native lands. And yet here, I see it is not much better. War is common, infighting is rampant, and the leaders of the realm waste resources squabbling with their neighbors rather than protecting their subjects, shirking their duty for their own ambition. And now, when the opportunity to unite and break the self-destructive cycle presents itself to you, you do what you do best: squabble and clamor over who gets what. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Coronam rolled his eyes. "Do you have anything of substance to add, Scion, or are you content to insult your hosts?"

"My point, Coronam, is this: you spend so much time doubting what could come of this, seeing it through the lens of cynicism. But sometimes this doesn't do anything but stall progress. Sometimes, you just need to have faith that, while it may seem painful at the time, things will turn out for the best. Have faith, friends, and you will be rewarded."

Another wave of murmuring moved through the assembly, contemplating Zissman's words. Even Austin had to admit that he was well-spoken, especially for an Outlander, though his speech lacked substance.

* * *

The debate continued in a pattern of calm statements followed by outbursts. The arguments went on…

"You really expect anyone here to believe that Inferno would protect their interests over her own? That she can be trusted?" Coronam demanded.

"I expect they'll agree she's more trustworthy than you," Faker retorted.

"That's not the issue!" Coronam roared.

* * *

…and on…

"I don't understand why Guns 'N Roses is so staunchly opposed," Inferno remarked. "Is this Diet not enough democratic process for you?"

Gwydion stood up. "Democratic process? Don't get me started on democratic process!"

Nitesco lifted his hands in a "calm down" motion. "Easy, Gwydion," he said. "Let me handle this."

"Democratic, my ass," Gwydion mumbled.

* * *

…and on…

"Why are we even letting this 'Austin' girl speak? What does a commoner know about matters of governance?" A Heroan diplomat asked.

"That's _ad hominem_ ," Austin retorted. "For someone who knows about matters of governance, you make bad arguments."

"What does that even mean?" Kazehh whispered. Jelo shushed him.

* * *

…and on…

"So you see," one of the Bumblebee oligarchs said, "We must give this matter our most careful consideration, because—Hey! Whoever threw that, your mother is a whore!"

"Glad we're staying on topic," McDouggal deadpanned.

* * *

…and on…

"I'm done beating around the bush," Contramundi said. "Inferno, I want to know how you really convinced so many of these people to vote with you."

"What, you can't accept that I've just given them the most compelling argument?" Inferno responded.

"I know that there's no way anyone who's listened to you speak for five minutes would buy into your sales pitch."

"I can confirm that," Austin said. "I don't buy into it."

"Ha!" Coronam laughed.

Jillian smirked, while Inferno kept a neutral expression.

* * *

…and on, until the sound of a large clock ringing signified to the attendants that it was noon, and time for a much-awaited midday recess before the voting began.

As Austin and the Countess walked out of the assembly room, Austin breathed a sigh of relief, overcome by the experience. "So, Countess, how did I do?"

The Countess smiled and nodded, and an intense wave of relief washed over Austin. She grinned triumphantly as she turned her attention to the people in the foyer. Across the room, she could hear Jelo's boisterous laughter.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go talk to my friends. When do we reconvene?"

The Countess held up four fingers.

"Thank you, your majesty." She gave a small, graceful curtsy and began walking over to her fellow mercenaries when she nearly walked straight into a robed politician. Again.

"Oh, pardon me, I wasn't looking where I was…" Seeing who she had walked into, she trailed off.

"Ah, excuse me," Zissman said, dusting himself off. "Austin, was it?"

"Yes, that's me," she replied. "How are you, Mr. Zissman?"

"I'm well, thank you," he said. "I just wanted to say that I thought you were very well-spoken out there. Though we may disagree politically, it's always a pleasure to encounter one as insightful as yourself."

"Oh. Uh, thank you. Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all. I'm sorry to keep you. I do hope we meet again after this is all over."

Austin nodded. "Perhaps we will," she said. She left, still unsure of how to feel about Zissman.

As soon as she stepped away from the awkward confrontation with the Scion, she was greeted by a heavy pat on the back that almost sent her spiraling to the ground.

"Austin, my lass!" Jelo laughed merrily and shook her violently in celebration. "I didn't know you had it in you!"

"Nor did I," McDouggal said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Perhaps I was a bit harsh in my initial judgements. I think I may have underestimated you."

He was interrupted by the sound of Kazehh loudly slurping down a glass of champagne that one of the attendants had brought for him. "Well, maybe not all of you. Kazehh, those aren't free, you know. It's coming out of your pay!"

"Then take as you please, Duke," he responded. "I can find money anywhere, but I'll never see the likes of champagne again!" With a grin, he took another glass of off the serving plate and downed it in a single gulp.

"If it's coming out of his pay, does that mean I get mine for free?" Jelo asked. McDouggal merely sighed.

"Well, if you're all going to indulge yourselves, I might as well get some for the rest of us. Serving boy! Four glasses, please."

"Make that six," a deep voice said. Turning around, Austin saw King Coronam, dressed in deep purple silk, and General Zealander, sporting several medals on his pristine crimson uniform.

"Coronam. Zealander. If you're willing to pick up the cost, I'd be happy to oblige."

"The privilege is mine," Coronam said, and he gave a small bow. "Ah, the mercenaries you told me about. And this," he turned to Austin. "Must be Austin. A pleasure, my lady." He gave a proper bow.

"The pleasure's all mine," Austin said, trying to sound formal. "I saw a woman with you when you entered. Where's she?"

"Ah, you mean Opifexa." He smiled. "She's cavorting with the other diplomats. Making sure they all, ah, vote correctly." The serving boy arrived, bearing a plate full of champagne glasses. Kazehh and Jelo plucked theirs from the plate and wandered off, leaving Austin and the three heads of state behind.

"And what of you, Zealander?" McDouggal asked, and he gently sipped his champagne. "Why are you cavorting with Coronam instead of your Oligarchs"

"Ah, Cel-," He coughed and cleared his throat, earning a glare from Coronam. "Sorry about that. Coronam's better company than those bickering bureaucrats." The General groaned and rubbed his temples. "Admiral Bluewhale and Colonel Strike are militantly against Inferno, though General Reno, Governor Wingnut and Presbyter Ijustread are more neutral. They were at each other's throats as soon as they allowed the recess."

"I hope they won't swing Arkos toward Inferno…" Coronam gravely muttered.

"Of course not. I would not allow it." Zealander sipped his champagne. "I assume the Countess Jillian votes with us, Austin?"

"Yes," Austin said. "I may not be an expert in statecraft, but I know a power play when I see one. The Countess and I are of the same mind there."

"Good, good." McDouggal smiled. "Well, voting begins soon. I'm not one for premature celebration, but I think we ought to drink to our impending success."

"And more importantly, Inferno's failure," Coronam added.

"I can get behind both of those," Zealander added. "To victory!"

"To victory!" They cried, and they threw back their champagne.

Out of the corner of her eye, Austin saw the Countess waiting patiently near the side doors to the assembly. After finishing her glass, she excused herself and began walking over to her.

When she was halfway across the room, Austin felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and jumped in surprise. It was Inferno, accompanied by her bodyguard.

"I don't believe we've met," Inferno said. "You know who I am, of course?"

Austin swallowed. "Queen Inferno," she said. "No, we haven't met. And, I guess you know who I am?"

"I do indeed, 'Austin of Armed and Ready,'" Inferno said. She offered a smile, but Austin felt that there was something predatory about it. She remained on her guard.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Austin asked.

"Nothing in particular," Inferno admitted, "But after your performance in the assembly hall, I thought we should become familiar. I make it a point to acquaint myself with, ah, people of ambition. And you strike me as an ambitious woman."

"I suppose it takes one to know one," Austin replied stiffly. "You know, I thought you were going to be angrier after what happened in there. Maybe insult me, threaten me. I wasn't expecting friendliness."

Inferno kept smiling. "We may be opponents now, but I've learned that today's adversaries may be tomorrow's allies. I know better than to burn bridges."

"Huh, that's ironic," Austin muttered.

Inferno raised an eyebrow. "Why is that ironic?"

"Uh, no reason," Austin said hastily. "It's been a pleasure, your highness, but I must be going." She turned and continued on her way.

"You'll find that Coronam makes for a poor friend," Inferno called after her. "When you do, come find me."

Austin did not acknowledge her.

Jay grinned. "She made a pun," he said.

Inferno sighed. "I know she did. I'm trying to forget it."

Austin completed her walk to the doors. "Is it time?" she asked the Countess.

The Countess nodded curtly, beckoning for her to follow. They took their seats in the assembly chamber and patiently waited for the rest of the diplomats to file in.

"Will there be another opportunity for me to speak?" Austin asked, trying to conceal her eagerness. The Countess smiled and shook her head lightly. Austin nodded, failing to conceal her disappointment.

After a few minutes, the rest of the representatives had returned to the chamber, ready to decide the fate of the Subreddit. Inferno, flanked by her ever-present bodyguard, walked into the chamber last and took her place at the head of the assembly.

"It is time, my friends, to decide where we will go from here. Each of your nations has been provided with a ballot. Please write your country's name and how they will vote."

"We know how this works," somebody from the Juniperan section chimed in, but silence quickly set over the chamber.

A minute later, a few servants came around the chamber, collecting the ballots and placing them on a desk in the middle of the assembly, where the vote-counters would tally the nations and how many votes they were pledging to each side. To ensure fairness, each member of the Mod Council had chosen a representative to participate in the vote-counting process. The final tally would be unmistakably correct.

The entire assembly was silent. Inferno coolly scanned the room while Coronam was grinding his teeth in the corner. Austin looked over at McDouggal and found, not to her surprise, that he was as pale as a ghost. Not that she could blame him. Even the Enablerese looked nervous.

The ticking of the clock seemed to magnify as the minutes wore on. Eventually, at long last, one of the vote counters stood up.

"The assembly has reached a decision." He paused dramatically. "The legislation has passed."

As improbable as it was, silence continued to hang over the court. The seconds ticked away, and each representative sat in place, unsure if what they had heard was correct. Finally, somebody broke the silence.

"So, Coronam, what do you say to that?" Inferno gloated.

The Renoran king stared down at the ground, positively seething. All eyes turned to him, to see what he would do.

He looked up, determination in his eyes.

"No."

"No?" Inferno asked, some of her confidence disappearing.

Coronam stood, his face a bright strawberry red. "NO! I will not let this Subreddit succumb to tyranny! I will not allow this harlot to drag us through the mud for the sake of her own power! And you must be daft to think that Renora will ever bow to a King other than me!"

"And what are you going to do about it?" Inferno's bodyguard spoke up, placing a hand on his sword's hilt.

"We will see." Celtic stood up, and he left without another word.

The entire assembly was in shock. Instantly they began to murmur and whisper amongst themselves.

"Coronam is a fool!"

"He's got the right idea."

"Does this mean war?"

Soon, such murmurings turned into conversation. Conversation turned to arguments. Arguments turned into shouting matches. Eventually, the entire chamber slipped into chaos.

Bureaucratic procedure had devolved into anarchy. Looking around, Austin saw politicians screaming at each other, storming out of the chamber, and a few even throwing punches. Everything was going downhill. She turned to the countess.

"Will you be alright from here?"

Jillian nodded.

Austin searched the room one more time. She saw Nitesco, Gwydion, and the rest of the Guns N' Roses delegation making a relatively calm exit.

"Then I'll be on my way," Austin said. "Thank you again for everything. Best of luck, Countess."

Jillian answered with an approving smile.

Up and to her left, Austin saw McDouggal, Kazehh, and Jelo together, wating for the chamber to calm down. By pure luck, all three of them looked down at her at the same time.

Austin smiled, raised two fingers to her head and gave the three of them a parting salute. Then, she turned and made her way out of the chamber. She had to catch up with a couple of family friends.

As she ran out after the delegation, Gwydion was the first to notice her. Upon seeing her, he tapped Nitesco on the shoulder, and they turned around to face her.

"Austin," Nitesco said. "Why aren't you with the Countess?"

"She no longer needs my help. Did you guys know a man named Austin Rufus?"

"Of course we did," Gwydion remarked. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"I want to talk," she said. "But I'd like to do it in private. Is there anywhere we can talk?"

Gwydion and Nitesco exchanged glances, and Nitesco sighed. "We have lodgings down the road. You can stay with us for the night."

Austin smiled. "Oh, thank you so much. It means a lot to me." She lifted her hand for a handshake, then reconsidered. In a desperate attempt to justify the hand motion, she folded her hands in front of her and tried to appear nonchalant.

"Indeed," Nitesco said. "But you'll have to answer some questions of ours as well. Now, into the carriage."

Austin did as she was told, stepping into the ornately furnished carriage and staring out the window as the door closed shut and the assembly building lurched out of sight.

* * *

"All that work. Useless!"

Coronam screamed as he entered into the inn he was staying at, startling the innkeeper at the counter. A harsh glare silenced the woman before she had a chance to speak up.

"That damned, double-dealing harlot! I'll have her crucified! I'll have her skinned and hung up on a tree! I'll have her tied to a stake and left for the beasts!" He screamed a final time for good measure as he opened the door to his room, startling Cinder, who was sitting at the desk reading a book.

"My liege, what is the matter?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Coronam turned to verbally ream him, but Opifexa held him back.

"My liege, please. Anger will do you no good now."

Coronam grumbled and sighed. "I suppose there's nothing we can do for now. I'm going to bed. We will think more on this in the morning."

"Why not now?" A voice resounded from the adjacent room, startling all three of the Renorans. A figure emerged from the darkness of the other room. Triumvir Contramundi.

"Greetings, King Coronam. I have a proposition for you."

"How did you get in here?" Cinder asked, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger in his cloak.

"You've rented out an entire inn. Somebody's going to leave a window open." He smiled. "But I do not bring wishes of harm. Our goals are the same."

"To kill Inferno," Coronam hissed. "That is my only thought at this time."

"Yes, Coronam. And I know exactly where to start: Enabler."

"Enabler?" Opifexa asked, doubtful. "Why Enabler?"

"My fellow Triumvir, Faker, is in league with Inferno. He knows that I have been against her from the start, and he's taken steps to make sure my soldiers cannot act against her. They are patrolling the countryside and the cities to keep peace from within. But I guarantee they aren't expecting an attack from without, especially after I ordered my soldiers to create a gap in his defenses."

"But I don't have the manpower for such an assault," Coronam stated. "Even with your support, I wouldn't be able to overcome the Enablerese soldiers."

"Coronam, we both know you brought along more troops than you're willing to let on, and I know that you have spies everywhere." He smiled and turned to Cinder. "Isn't that right, Fugov?"

"Where did you learn that name?" Cinder drew his dagger, but Opifexa grabbed his wrist before he could do anything drastic.

"So you're saying we sabotage him?" Coronam asked. "You open up the defenses, my spies distract them and then we both strike?"

"Indeed." Contramundi smiled. "So, what say you? Shall we make the first move?"

Coronam smiled. "Yes, Contramundi. I think we shall."

They shook hands, and so the war began.


	8. Chapter 8

**November 10, 8 ATC**

 **Friar's Inn, Province of Apidaea, Oligarchy of Bumblebee**

The Friar's Inn was practically deserted, Austin observed. Nitesco and Gwydion had taken the precaution of renting out the entire inn to stifle foul play. She looked around before following them up the stairs. Soldiers were posted at every possible entry point. So long as the inn didn't suddenly begin reeking of manure, they were safe.

As Austin followed Nitesco into one of the upstairs rooms, Gwydion shut the door behind her. Tiredly, he took a seat in a chair by the desk while Nitesco took a seat on the bed.

"So, Austin," Gwydion said, studying her intently. "I understand you have a few questions for us, but we have some we'd like to ask first." He cocked his head, waiting for her response.

She shrugged and leaned against a wall. "Ask away. I have nothing to hide."

"Well, then. Forgive me for being so curt, but is Austin your real name?"

Austin squinted at him. "Well. Out of all the questions to ask me, I didn't expect that one."

Gwydion cleared his throat, prodding her to answer the question. "Fine," she said. "It's not."

"Then what is your real name, lass?" Gwydion spoke up, steepling his fingers.

Austin sighed. "If you really want to know. Vigintia." She paused. "Though you should know nobody's called me that in many years."

"Vigintia, huh?" Gwydion stroked his chin. "I like Austin better. No offense."

"Vigintia?" Nitesco echoed. "That's a Gunnian name, is it not?"

She nodded, and Nitesco smiled. "I figured it was. You still have a bit of an accent."

Upon hearing this, Austin frowned. "Hmm. I never could get rid of that accent."

"Why did you want to?" Gwydion bluntly asked. Nitesco turned, pursed his lips, and glared at Gwydion, who sank his shoulders slightly. Seeing this, Austin chuckled a bit.

"Oh, it's fine. He's just curious." Austin pulled up a chair from the corner and sat down. "I'm guessing that you've drawn the connection between me and Austin Rufus by now."

"Yes, we guessed there was something," Nitesco responded. "Between the accent, the name and the resemblance—" Austin shot him an accusative glare, and he shrugged. "We had an intimation you were somehow related."

"Intimation?" Gwydion sniggered. "That's a tenpenny word, bud. When did you start using such scary words?"

"When I had to deal with foreign diplomats. They can talk the ears off of a wooden soldier. Now, hush." He nodded at Austin. "Continue, if you would."

"Well, I'm guessing he told you about his crimes against the King of Guns N' Roses. About how he, well…" She trailed off and started toying with her hair. "Poisoned them all?"

"Only in passing," Gwydion admitted. "He was not a very open person. Very rarely did he talk about his past, and he never did so for very long."

"Well, he did have a wife," she stated flatly, staring at the ground. "And a daughter he was forced to leave behind."

A moment of silence washed over Gwydion and Nitesco, each absorbing the new information. "So you really are Austin's daughter?" Nitesco folded his hands and contemplated this for a moment. "Well, I'll be damned. He never told us he had a family. Never even suggested it."

"How did you get separated?" Gwydion asked, ever blunt. Nitesco shot him another glare, but Austin raised her hand.

"On the night my father betrayed the King, he took me and fled. The Bumblebeean border wasn't far, but it was long enough that the King's royal guard, who had set up camp nearby, noticed us." Austin swallowed, and her expression darkened. "They gained on us quickly. We bought ourselves a little time by hiding behind a hill, but he knew that they would catch us. So, he gave me the horse and sent me off toward the border while he drew their attention." She paused and sighed again. "That was the last time I ever saw him."

"Well," Nitesco asked, politely knitting his fingers. "What happened after that?"

"Oh, that's not nearly as entertaining," Austin sniffled, and she smiled sadly. "I rode into city of Prosthetium, which was still a Bumblebee possession back then. The horse was stolen, and I fell into a group of street orphans. Kazehh and Jelo, two of my closest friends, were among them."

"Ah, the two ruffians with McDouggal." Gwydion smiled. "They remind me of me when I was younger."

Nitesco smirked. "I remember hearing about them from the servants at the Diet. Apparently, they racked up a fortune in champagne bills."

"That sounds like them," Austin said with a smile, though it quickly faded back into a melancholy blankness.

Another silence settled over the room. Austin stared at the ground, distracted by old, suppressed memories, while Nitesco and Gwydion exchanged concerned glances.

"So, Austin," Nitesco said. "Is there anything we can do for you? Any questions you'd like us to answer?"

Austin looked up and blinked. "Well. I wanted to ask you about my father. And get to know the two of you." She looked down. "The famous Nitesco and Gwydion, who rebuilt Guns N' Roses from the ground up. I've heard the stories about you, and about your time with my father. I wanted to see if they were true, and if you had anything to add to them. I was curious, I suppose. It's been so long…" she trailed off.

Gwydion massaged his hands. "It's been some time since we talked about all of that. We don't do much reminiscing nowadays. But for you, I think we could."

"Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Nitesco asked.

She rubbed her head. "Nothing right now, actually. I'm tired, it's been a long day. Could we talk about it later?"

"Of course," Nitesco said. "If you need to rest, I think we have an empty room across the hall. Anything else we can do?"

"No, your hospitality is quite enough." She smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Both of you. Good night."

"Good night," Gwydion and Nitesco said in unison, and she left without another word. Once he was certain she was gone, Gwydion leaned back in his seat.

"So, what do we do with her? I mean, we can't keep her around forever."

"I know that, Gwydion." Nitesco stood up and furrowed his brow. "But she needs closure. Armed and Ready is on the way back home, right? We pass through Enabler territory tomorrow. When we stop for the night in the capital, we can buy a horse for her to get home with. In the meantime, we can give her the closure she deserves."

"That sounds like a good plan," Gwydion said as he stood up from the chair. He placed a hand on Nitesco's shoulder. "I'm just worried you might get attached."

"You feel the same way, I know it." Nitesco sighed. "Similar faces, voices, mannerisms. It's like he's returned from the dead."

"I understand how you feel, Nitesco. And you're right, I do feel the same way." Gwydion frowned and walked over to the door. "But he hasn't returned. And we should take care not to forget that."

"You know I will." Nitesco crossed his arms and nodded, melancholy. "Good night, Gwydion."

"Good night, Nitesco." Gwydion tried to muster up a smile before he closed the door behind him.

Nitesco sat down on his bed and rested his head on his fist. The sad reality of the situation never escaped him, but he still felt like he finally had the opportunity to get closure for himself, not to mention the girl. A swirl of conflicting emotions shook his mind, and he laid down on the bed. He tried to ignore the ache in his leg.

"You always did like to fuck with me, Austin," he muttered aloud. Nitesco drew the covers over himself and let himself be lulled into sleep with dreams of distant memories.

* * *

 **November 11, 8 ATC**

 **Triumvir Palace, City of Sang-Divin, Duchy of Sororae, Triumvirate of Enabler**

Vinpap did not like the new changes. He did not like them one bit.

As he paced through the halls of his own palace, he saw soldiers from both Contramundi's and Faker's forces walking about, whispering and glaring at each other. Only his own soldiers, who manned the palace security, stared ahead impassively as they were meant to, always ready to take down any dissidents as, Vinpap feared, might soon be necessary.

If nothing else, it was an amusing change. Faker, who had always been vehemently opposed to anyone taking authority over him, now defended the new legislation with such fervor that it made Faker's head spin. Contramundi, on the other hand, had gone in the opposite direction. Instead of taking new developments in power in stride, as he normally did, he now railed against the new legislation whenever anybody was around to hear. It annoyed him to no end.

Not that Vinpap disagreed with him, of course. It was hard enough to rein in Contramundi and Faker as it was. He was getting older and older, and as such the sway he held over the two was growing more and more tentative. Now that Inferno was beginning to meddle in his affairs, it would get that much harder to manage them.

As he entered the Triumvir's lounge, he was surprised to see that Contramundi and Faker were already there. They weren't arguing; instead, they sat contentedly in their chairs, enjoying the dinner that the servants had brought them. Cautiously, he took his seat at the head of the table and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Contramundi. Faker. You're certainly early to dinner." He paused. "And… peaceable."

Contramundi smiled and took a bite of a croissant. "Well, I've been doing some thinking."

"Yes," Faker cooly intoned, refolding the napkin on his lap. "I have as well. Now that Inferno has begun the transfer of power, I no longer need to worry about power plays, from without…" He turned to Contramundi and glared at him. "Or within."

"Oh, I agree with about half of that." Contramundi winked and finished his croissant. "Now that Coronam has more or less declared his opposition to his liege, we can expect a large-scale revolt, and soon things will be right back where they should be."

Vinpap tightened his grip on his wine glass. "I hope neither of you plan to take sides in this revolt, _if_ it happens." He beckoned to the sentinels in the room to be on their guard.

"No, of course not," Faker said, and he took the napkin off his lap. "I have no desire for war here in Enabler. That's why I've asked Inferno to send a few detachments of her soldiers here, to keep the peace."

"You what?" Contramundi and Vinpap asked. Faker merely smiled and beckoned out the window.

"If you look closely at the horizon, you'll see that they're already arriving. Much sooner than I expected, might I add. Very gracious of Inferno."

Vinpap sat back in his chair, seething. Contramundi, on the other hand, merely smiled.

"Well, Faker, you should know that Coronam has so graciously lent _me_ some of his soldiers. And they are slated to attack right about now."

Almost on cue, a large bang went off, and in the distance, the wide spray of a firework lit up the evening sky. A large force of soldiers descended from the hills in the distance, half of them attacking the advancing Pollination soldiers and half breaking away to take the city.

Contramundi and Faker stared at each other hatefully, while Vinpap gaped in disbelief. Faker was the first to move.

"Well, Contramundi. You've invited a traitor into our house, and so you are a traitor yourself. Guards! Arrest him!"

About half of the soldiers in the room leveled their spears at Contramundi. Faker smirked, and Vinpap stood up, his grip on the glass he held becoming deathly tight.

"What?!" He stammered in disbelief. "What happened? Why are you taking orders from this whelp?"

"Because he bribed half of your guards," Contramundi said calmly, remaining in his seat.

"How do you know?"

Contramundi flashed him a grin. "Because I bribed the other half."

On cue, the other half of the guards in the room pointed their spears at Vinpap, Faker, and the other guards.

"What the fuck!" Vinpap punctuated his exclamation by hurling his wine glass to the floor. "I will not allow this great nation to fall prey to petty power squabbles! I will have both of you thrown into the oubliette if you do not stand down now!" With another scowl, he drew his saber. "Now!"

"Vinpap, enough posturing," Contramundi demanded, eyes still locked with Faker. "Nobody wants to hurt you."

"Then stand down," he demanded through gritted teeth.

Faker sighed. "Vinpap, you know we can't kill you. But you can't stay here. Soldier!"

At Faker's behest, one of the guardsmen slugged Vinpap, and Faker watched with a not-insignificant feeling of gratification as the old man tumbled to the ground, unconscious. He drew his saber and angled it at Contramundi, who did the same.

"We'll deal with Vinpap later, men. For now, we deal with these revolutionaries. Take them!"

At once, the lounge was a battlefield, and the palace guards descended on one another like flies onto carrion. Over the table, Contramundi attempted a lunge, but Faker sidestepped it.

"You never did learn how to land a hit, Contramundi," he sneered.

"You never knew how to win with grace, Faker," Contramundi jabbed back. "If you did, we might not be in this mess. En garde!"

With that, Faker and Contramundi began their duel. Contramundi attempted to break his opponent's guard with his signature thrusting attacks, but he stayed mostly on the defensive when confronted with Faker's vicious swings. They slowly migrated around the room, neither making any significant headway, while their forces thinned each other's numbers.

"That's enough, Faker!" Contramundi growled, attempting to riposte one of Faker's overhead swings. "Give up and I'll spare your life."

"And spend the rest of it in some dirty hole in the ground?" Faker scoffed and swiped at his opponent's stomach. "Never!"

At that moment, a cannonball hurled through the window of the lounge, sending a spray of glass over the combatants and beheading one of the guardsmen in its trajectory. Contramundi took advantage of the distraction to take a stab at Faker, but he sidestepped it again and slashed his face before elbowing his opponent to the ground.

"A pity, Contramundi," Faker jeered. "The game was over before it—"

He was cut off by Contramundi as he swiftly kicked Faker in the stomach. Contramundi scrambled to his feet and turned to the door.

"Men! Fall back! We'll regroup in the foyer!"

Contramundi and his soldiers disappeared almost instantly, darting out the door before anybody had a chance to stop them. As Faker caught his breath, one of his surviving soldiers came to his side.

"Sir, should we go after them?"

"Yes, fool," Faker growled in return. "You four, follow them. The other three, go down through the west wing and cut them off. I'll follow you in a second."

The soldiers left the room, leaving only Faker and an unconscious Vinpap in the room. As Faker steadied himself on one of the few intact tables, Vinpap stirred.

"Faker…" he gasped weakly. "What happened?"

"I've played my cards wisely," Faker said, smiling. "Everything played out exactly as I guessed it would, though with more...foreign influence than I thought."

"You will not succeed, Faker." Vinpap mumbled. "You'll drag the entire state down with you!"

"Yes, yes. I heard your piece." Faker finished his sentence by skewering Vinpap with his rapier and watching as the life began draining from his former co-ruler. It nearly brought a smile to his face, knowing that he would not be beholden to anybody any longer.

"I know you, Faker," Vinpap growled through winces of pain. "And I knew others like you. Their ambition led them to ruin, and it will lead you there too…" With a final growl of anger, Vinpap expired, and Faker sighed.

"A beautiful speech, Vinpap," Faker said, closing Vinpap's eyes. "But you must excuse me.

"I have a rebellion to crush."


	9. Chapter 9

**November 11, 8 ATC**

 **City of Sang-Divin, Duchy of Sororae, Triumvirate of Enabler**

When the Guns N' Roses delegation arrived in the city, the tension was suffocating. The Enablerese soldiers walked the streets, casting suspicious glares not only at the delegation, which was to be expected, but also at their fellow soldiers and even the regular townsfolk. Nitesco leaned back in his seat and twiddled his thumbs while Gwydion and Austin continued to gaze absentmindedly out the window.

"Does anything seem… off to you guys?" Nitesco spoke up. Gwydion furrowed his brow, but did not stop looking out the window.

"The people are tense," he said. "Something is going to happen. Soon. Figures that we'd be here to enjoy it," he muttered.

"Something is going to happen on that ridge over there," Austin piped up. Gwydion and Nitesco both turned to give her an odd look.

"That ridge?" Gwydion asked. "How do you know it's that ridge?"

"The soldiers," she said. "I know how to read people. All the soldiers keep glancing at that ridge. Something important will happen there."

"Then let's find an inn as far away from that ridge as we can. Driver!" Nitesco hollered to the carriage driver. "Find us an inn in the west quarter of the city."

"Will do, sir!" The driver hollered back, and he turned down a narrow road.

Eventually, they ended up at a fairly well-to-do inn, and after some negotiation with an incredulous clerk ( _I'm sorry sir, did you say fifty-three customers?)_ they were able to secure enough rooms for the entire delegation. Austin went to her room and put her things away, and a while later she heard a knock on the door.

"Austin? It's Nitesco. May I come in?"

Austin hung up her rain cloak and opened the door before returning to the window. Nitesco scratched his chin and walked over with her.

"So, are there any more questions you want to ask us? About your father, or anything like that?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, no. You answered all my questions on the way here. Now I feel like… like I know my father, even if I really didn't. I can't thank you enough for your hospitality."

"Do you know where you'll go from here?" Nitesco asked. "We can buy you transportation in the morning."

"Ah, no. I go where I hear there's work. Right now, I'm sure that every monarch is looking for a little extra muscle. I might stay here in Enabler and find work for a noble."

"I'd suggest against that. Enabler's a fun place to visit…" He trailed off as Austin raised her eyebrow at him. "Well, if you're into that. But it's not a good place to live."

Austin nodded. "I'll keep that in—"

The sound of a large explosion startled them both, and they stumbled away from the window. Nitesco was the first to steady himself, and he pressed his face to the glass to see what was happening, followed by Austin. Across from the Triumvir Palace, a single firework had illuminated the night. Out in the distance, on the ridge, two armies descended on one another while the soldiers in the street had begun to run in various directions.

"What is that?" Austin asked, ready for a fight.

Nitesco grit his teeth and turned to leave the room. "An old trick of Nachbar's. Gwydion!" He called down the stairs. "Did you see?"

"Yes!" Gwydion shouted up the stairs, and Austin quickly followed Nitesco to the ground floor. "The soldiers are in a panic. We need to figure out what's happening."

While Gwydion and Nitesco rallied their soldiers and fetched their weapons, Austin looked out the side window. "They're in a panic, yes," Austin interjected. "But why aren't they heading toward the battlefield?"

"What do you mean?"

"The soldiers should be going to the main avenue, which will take them out the central gates. But they're going down the side road. Where does that lead?"

Gwydion shrugged and looked at Nitesco, who was stroking his chin. Suddenly, his eyes lit up in understanding. "The Triumvir Palace. Something's happening with the leadership."

Gwydon sheathed his sword and made sure his hand cannon was securely in its holster. "Do you think it's a coup?"

"I don't know," Nitesco conceded. But there's only one way to find out. Captain!" He addressed his escort's leader. "Fortify the inn. Keep the civilians safe."

"But sir," the captain protested. "Wouldn't you be safer with a detachment with you?"

"Nobody will notice a few random people running around, but they will if we have fifty foreign soldiers armed to the teeth behind us. My orders still stand, captain. Fortify the inn." He turned to Gwydion. "You're with me."

"I can come with," Austin volunteered, trying to hide her eagerness. "I don't have soldier's armor. I'll blend in with you, and you need all the help you can get."

Nitesco furrowed his brow and looked to Gwydion, who merely shrugged.

"Fine. Come along and be on your guard."

Austin followed Gwydion and Nitesco into the city streets. As they approached the main road, Nitesco led them down a side alley just as a patrol of soldiers ran past.

"If I remember correctly," Nitesco said, "we should come out in the Palace square. Just follow my lead."

"Why are we going to the Palace?" Austin asked.

"The Triumvirs may be in danger. If this is an invasion from Inferno, we must make sure they remain unharmed," Gwydion answered.

"Then why didn't we bring the rest of the soldiers?"

"Because they could also be fighting amongst themselves," Nitesco responded. "And if they are, the last thing we need is to storm in with a full contingent of men and turn all of them against us. Besides, this way, we draw as little attention as possible."

"That's fair enough," Austin conceded.

When they arrived in the square, Austin and Nitesco stopped recover quickly and Gwydion brought his hands to his knees and inhaled sharply. "Oh, God," Gwydion breathed. "I haven't run that fast in years."

"You haven't run in years period, bud," Nitesco laughed. "A lap around the legislature a day would do you some good."

"I'm too old for that, Nitesco!" He grunted back.

"You're forty-two, quit whining. Greatness still beat your ass during the war, and he was in his fifties. Now come on!"

"Hmph. See how it is when you're my age, sonny," Gwydion muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. Nitesco cast an accusative glance at him before entering the Palace.

When they arrived in the foyer, the trio was greeted by four guards, who, by the looks of it, had just finished killing one of Contramundi's private bodyguards. They stopped in their tracks, but not soon enough to avoid the guards' attention.

"Hey, intruders!" One of them shouted. The one next to him groaned and readied his spear.

"We can see that, Conrad," the second guard said. "You three. By order of Triumvir Faker, all intruders must be immediately killed." The other three guards angled their spears at the trio.

Nitesco groaned and drew his sword. "Well, now we know it's a civil conflict, at least."

"I was hoping we would avoid a fight," Austin said.

Gwydion merely unsheathed his sword and his hand cannon. "To arms!" he shouted, and he promptly blew a sizeable hole in the first guard's chest.

The remaining three guards stumbled backward, and Nitesco took the opportunity to charge them while Gwydion reloaded. Swiftly, he engaged one of the guardsmen while the other two ignored him and charged at Austin and Gwydion.

Startled, Austin hastily dodged to the side, barely escaping being impaled. The guard, unfazed, whirled around and clipped Austin's side, sending her into a wall. Again, the guard tried to swing and thrust at her, but she dodged each strike.

The guard growled. "Enough! You can't dodge forever."

Austin said nothing, but she knew he was right. She couldn't stay on the defensive if she wanted to survive. Her dodges were growing slower and narrower. She had to go on the defensive.

"Then try again, dogface," she taunted. The guard sneered and reared back to stab at her, but Austin was at his throat before he could follow through. She sank the sword into his chest and let him fall limp to the floor.

Austin watched as the guard collapsed, unsure of what to feel. Revulsion? Shame? She had never killed a man before, even as a mercenary. A flurry of emotions ran through her mind, but she settled on revulsion.

Feeling nauseous and lightheaded, she kneeled down and put a hand on her head, staring at the dead sentinel. Next to her, Gwydion wrenched his blade out of a guardsman's chest while Nitesco, covered in his opponent's blood, walked to her side and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I just killed him," Austin said. "I just—I killed him. Oh, Goddess." Nitesco nodded.

"I know how you feel," he said. "I know that disgust, I know that shame. And we can talk about it later, but right now, we need to find Contramundi and Vinpap. Okay?"

Austin felt a tear form in her eye, but she suppressed it. "Okay," she said. "Okay." She stood up and uneasily followed Nitesco and Gwydion out the back door of the foyer.

* * *

Elsewhere, a queen and her bodyguard sat in the back of the carriage, en route to an important meeting.

"How do you think things are going in Enabler?" Jay asked.

Queen Inferno smiled. "I imagine that by now order has been established. The force we sent was enough to take control of Enabler even without Faker's assistance. I have no doubt that the battle, if there even is one, is going in our favor."

"You think Contramundi and Vinpap will put up a fight?"

"Ha!" she lauged. "They will try. Vinpap, that old fool, will be put down easily. I doubt he's anticipated treachery. Even Faker should be able to deal with him."

"And what of Contramundi?" Jay asked.

"Contramundi represents slightly stiffer opposition, but the odds are stacked against him. He's, shall we say, ill-suited to facing Faker as an opponent."

"Ill-suited?"

"Faker is crafty, underhanded, deceptive. Contramundi is vulnerable to dangers that come as a surprise. He can deal with a threat that he sees coming, but throw a wrench in the works, as Faker so often does, and that will throw him off. He is, perhaps," Inferno said, "too easily distracted."

* * *

Nitesco, Gwydion and Austin arrived in a garden, where they noticed, at the other end, Contramundi fending off Faker. As he noticed them in the corner of his eye, Contramundi kicked his opponent in the stomach and tried to catch another glimpse of the intruders.

"Nitesco?" He asked. "What are you—"

Contramundi was cut off by Faker's sword entering his stomach. He groaned, staggered and fell to the ground, clutching his gut, while Faker grinned and stood up.

"Well, look at this," he chuckled scornfully. "Prime Minister Nitesco and his faithful sidekick Gwydion, come to stick their fat noses where they don't belong." Gwydion rubbed the tip of his nose while Faker turned his gaze to Austin.

"And the mouthy little peasant girl from the Diet. It looks like fate has given me an opportunity to avenge myself on two people today." He shouted, "Guards! Dispatch these meddlers."

Nothing happened. Faker shifted uneasily while Austin smirked at him.

"Guards! I said come here!" When they failed to come, Faker sighed and shifted his gaze to the ground.

"They're dead, aren't they?"

Gwydion sniggered. "How do you think we got in here?"

"A fair point."

"Give up, Faker," Nitesco demanded. "We don't want to kill you, especially somebody of your rank."

"You won't kill me today, but I'm sure as hell not going to prison either." He unbuckled a small grenade from his belt. "May the winds be at your back, meddlers." With that, he pulled the pin, dropped the grenade and ran as it filled the courtyard with a thick gray haze.

"Ah, shit," Austin muttered. "I should've figured that an Enablerese would pull such a dirty trick."

"I take offense to that," a raspy voice said. Looking over, they realized that Contramundi was still, somehow, clinging on to life.

"He's still alive!" Austin announced, and she rushed to his side. As Nitesco and Gwydion followed her, she tore off part of her tunic sleeve and began stuffing it on Contramundi's stab wound.

"Oh, leave it," he muttered. "It's over."

"Not yet it isn't," Nitesco said. "Where's Vinpap?"

"Dead, I assume. Faker's never been one to tolerate a threat of any sort. And now, he has one fewer…"

"I've never known you to give up the fight, Contra," Nitesco said. "Austin, how's the wound?"

"It's not great," she admitted, "but he should live if we get him to a proper doctor fast enough. Do you have one with your delegation?"

"We have a medic, yes. We'll get him back to the inn as soon as possible. Pack the wound well." Nitesco turned to Contramundi. "We're going to carry you back to where we're staying. I'll admit, this isn't going to be pleasant, but just bear with us."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me it won't huAAUGH!" Contramundi howled as Gwydion and Nitesco hoisted him up. As soon as they began walking, though, he swooned and went completely limp.

"Well, Austin," Gwydion said. "Now that he's out, how does it really look?"

"It's like I said, Gwydion. It's not irreparable, but it could be better. That said, we'd better move him quick."

"Fair enough. Nitesco! On the double!" Gwydion exclaimed, and they made off to the inn as quick as they could.

By the time they had returned to the inn, the city was aflame. Faker's soldiers vied with Contramundi's for control of the streets, and more than a few buildings had been set ablaze during the fighting. Upon seeing the four of them, the delegation soldiers opened the door and beckoned them inside.

"Get Contramundi an open room!" Austin bellowed. "If there's a medic here, go with him and fix him up! He's been stabbed!"

Two of the soldiers relieved Nitesco and Gwydion of Contramundi and moved him into the back. Gwydion disappeared with them, but Nitesco remained in the entrance room.

"You have a knack for leadership, Austin," he noted. "And there are two entrances to the inn. Can I trust you to manage the soldiers here while I take some to watch the back?"

"Of course," Austin nodded. "I'll try and keep the boat steady. You go do what you have to do."

Nitesco merely smiled and nodded, beckoning some of his men to follow him to the back entrance. Austin, in turn, turned her attention to the chaos outside and prepared to weather the night.

* * *

Coronam was not pleased. He was not pleased one bit.

Contramundi had said that taking the city would be simple, that the city would bend to the threat of force, Faker would be imprisoned and they would begin his long-awaited retribution on Inferno.

Of course, he had not counted on Faker making the same deal with Inferno. And now Coronam had to mop up his mistake.

With a single swing, Coronam deprived two Pollinational spearmen of their heads, and with a second, he clipped the side of an attacking knight with his glaive. He swiftly dispatched his enemy and refocused himself on the battlefield.

Pollination's center was holding strong, he noted. Their left flank, however, was suffering, their defenders dwindling. If he could break that flank, he could surround and destroy them before they could recover.

"Anna!" He cried to his bodyguard. After disabling a Pollinational soldier, Anna looked up at her master, ready for her orders.

"Tell General Kuroyuri to advance his archers to our right flank and press the assault! I'll be with him soon!"

"Yes, my liege!" His bodyguard dutifully obeyed and sprinted off in the direction of Kuroyuri's command tent.

Coronam grinned in anticipation and turned around, only to see a Pollinational horseman galloping toward him, lance at the ready. Instead of fleeing, Coronam grinned and stepped to the side before swiftly burying the guisarme of his glaive into the rider's stomach and pulling him off.

The horse, suddenly deprived of its rider, skidded to a halt and fell on its side. Coronam quickly made sure that the cavalryman wouldn't get up again and mounted the startled horse with some difficulty before forcing it into a gallop toward the right flank.

As he rode, he saw that his archers were in formation, wearing down the Pollinational left flank. As he passed his regulars, he raised his glaive in the air and beckoned for them to follow him.

"Men! To me! We finish this now!" As soon as he issued his rallying cry, his men raised their swords and swept over to the left flank, which was currently coming out of the cover they dove under to escape the arrow barrage. Soon, they were in the thick of it, swords and blood flying through the air in equal measure.

Coronam buried his glaive in a soldier's skull before looking up to see his progress. Already the Pollinational center was panicking and disintegrating as they now had to contend with assaults on their left and a charge from the front. Coronam gingerly dismounted from his horse and began swinging at the enemy soldiers wildly.

"Oh, I forgot how exhilarating it is to be on the battlefield!" He said to himself. The fight wore on, and under Coronam's leadership the Renora forces drained morale of the enemy, cutting down foe after foe and closing in from all sides. Soon, the Pollinational forces were in retreat. Renoran archers continued taking shots as their enemies fled.

It took some time for the dust to clear and Coronam's troops to regroup. As he walked back to his command tent, one of his scouts ran up to him and taped him on the shoulder.

Coronam sighed. "What is it, soldier?"

"Faker's private army is still wreaking havoc in the city, fighting with Contra's forces. Shall we restore the peace ourselves, sir?"

Coronam stroked his chin and nodded. "Yes. Send a few regiments into the city to restore the peace. Crush any resistance. If we are to have a foothold in the Rubia region, it must be secure."

"At once, my liege." The scout bowed and walked off into the darkness to relay his orders.

* * *

The sound of blood pounding through his head stirred Contramundi from his slumber. He groaned and sat up, but the pain in his stomach forced him to lie down again.

"Easy, Contra," a voice said. Contramundi strained a bit to see who was addressing him. To his surprise, it was Gwydion.

"Gwydion?" He asked. "Oh, I remember. The garden… and Faker." Suddenly, he sat up straight, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach. "The city! Is it intact? Are my people safe?"

Gwydion looked down at the floor and back at him. "It's… intact. You see, the fighting between your soldiers and Faker's caused some serious damage and rioting."

"Is it over?"

"Well, yes. Some Renoran soldiers quelled any dissent." He paused. "Quite brutally, so I hear."

"Coronam…" Contra muttered. "Where is their leader? I demand to speak with him."

"He's in the entrance room, talking to Nitesco. We saw him some hours ago and beckoned him in here." He paused. "You stay here, Contra, I'll go get him."

Contramundi had no choice but to sit in his bed and wait for Coronam to return. When he finally did, the Renoran king was met with a harsh glare.

"Is there a problem, Contra?" Coronam asked. Contramundi sneered.

"The problem, Coronam, was that this battle was supposed to be quick and painless: we eliminate Faker and his supporters to cement our hold here."

"Well I didn't expect to find a greeting party of a Pollinational legion, but my expectations are being very consistently undermined today," Coronam fired back. "The city was already ablaze when I got here. There was nothing I could do but stop the people starting the fires."

"Very brutally, so I hear," Contramundi grimaced.

"Listen," Coronam hissed. "Do you know what we have done here?" When Contramundi failed to answer, he continued.

"We have committed treason, Contra. We have rebelled against Inferno. And I am confident we will succeed, we have enough allies to do so. But we must stand united. If we plunge our swords into each other's backs instead of Inferno's, we've already lost. Whatever grudge you might have now, set it aside. We have bigger problems. Okay?" He stuck out his hand.

Contra stared at it contemptuously for a few second before reluctantly shaking it. "Fine," he said. "A united front."

"Good." Coronam nodded. "When people catch wind of this, they'll flock to our cause or Inferno's. Do I have permission to use the city as the place to form a league?"

"Don't push it," Contra said. "If you want somewhere to act as a base, go ask Nitesco."

"Very well," Coronam said. "I'll go talk to them." He turned to leave, but stopped himself.

"Oh, and you should know that we found Vinpap's body," Coronam informed him. "And Faker's fled the coop. You're the only leader of Enabler now. Congratulations."

Contramundi sighed. "So I am." He paused, the reality of the situation creeping over him. "So I am."

As Coronam left, he let himself lay back on the bed, wondering what was to come.


	10. Chapter 10

**November 15, 8 ATC**

 **Castle Inferno, Duchy of Pollination, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

"So, let's examine this together, shall we?" Inferno spoke coolly, but this belied the intense displeasure that all present could feel in the air around her.

"You told me that the number of soldiers in the city that you either have under your direct command or have bribed is vastly greater than what Contramundi has, correct?"

"Yes, Inferno. That is correct." Faker said. Next to Inferno, Jay shifted uneasily, knowing from experience how his liege preferred to get under her victim's skin rather than yell or scream when angered. Even more so, he knew how good she was at it. Inferno steepled her fingers and inhaled.

"It's _Queen_ Inferno, mind you," she said, oozing superiority. Jannis rolled his eyes and let out a quiet huff. He had seen so many of these self-aggrandizing nobles since journeying to the Subreddit. It was enough to make him sick.

"But I digress. You told me that your soldiers could take the city within a few hours from the inside, and that my soldiers would only be there to prevent anyone from escaping." Zissman knit his fingers as Inferno continued. She was an adept manipulator and a proficient administrator, but her interpersonal skills were lacking, to say the least. Perhaps she would have to be replaced after all.

"I waited until the soldiers arrived," Faker tried to explain. "Just in case things—"

"And now you come crawling back to me to tell me that not only has the city been lost, but out of the three thousand men I sent to secure it, two hundred and seventy-six returned. Even a simpleton like you should know that is not a good ratio." Anti bit her nails in the corner. She had seen clients like Inferno in the past, belligerent and rude. In the long run, things never turned out well for them.

"Contramundi had help," Faker said. Inferno stopped just as she was about to get going again and instead leaned forward. She ground her teeth together and balled her hands into a fist, already knowing the answer to the question she was going to ask.

"From who?"

Faker swallowed as a bead of sweat fled down his neck. "Coronam."

Inferno blew air out her nose. Of course it was Coronam. Of course _he_ had to stick his fat, oafish hands into her business. Her victory. It was inevitable that he would, given how he stormed out of the Diet with half the Subreddit behind him, but the fact that he had struck so soon and so soundly brought out a frustration that was difficult for her to contain.

But she wasn't Coronam, she reminded herself. When she suffered a setback or an upset, she did not scream or hit or make graphic threats of bodily harm. She sat back and plotted her revenge. That was what separated her from brutes like him.

"Were there any others besides him?" She asked, her displeasure giving way to an odd sort of resignation.

"Yes, there were. Nitesco and Gwydion were there, along with the whelp from the Diet."

Inferno leaned back in her chair and considered the situation. Of the four regions of the Subreddit, Rubia would be the most hotly contested. If Coronam inspired another Great Revolt, it would be necessary for her to hold the region. Though with Faker ousted, she had lost her most secure foothold in the most vital region of the war, and if Guns N' Roses turned against her, her hold would grow even more tenuous.

"Did you at least rid us of Vinpap and Contramundi?"

Faker swallowed. "I killed Vinpap, and I managed to stab Contramundi before I was forced to flee." He paused uneasily. "The wound might not have been fatal."

Inferno let out a small sound of disgust. "Of course the most meddlesome one is left alive. You may all leave. I must think on this."

Faker grunted and left quickly, followed by Anti, who gave a polite nod as she left. Jannis and Zissman, however, stayed behind.

Inferno groaned. "Do you have nothing better to do than look at me? I'm flattered, but I'm not in the mood."

"You should be more considerate to your subjects, Inferno," Zissman gently chided her. "It does not befit a good ruler to breed contempt so readily."

"He failed. Spectacularly," Inferno shot back. "I gave him complete control of this operation, and what does he do? He comes back with the city lost and my armies decimated, and the only thing he has to show for this tremendous cost is Vinpap dead and Contramundi wounded."

"Faker could not have known that Coronam would arrive," Zissman countered. "We cannot punish him for falling to threats he did not see coming. I suggest-"

"I am the sovereign of the Subreddit, Scion." Inferno stood up, indignant. "I suggest that you remember who has the authority here."

"And yet it was us who gave you this authority," Jannis interjected. Zissman looked at him questioningly but allowed him to continue.

"You would be nothing without us," Jannis said. "Before we arrived here, you were a bit player, pushing buttons from the shadows in Heroa. Your predecessor had lost Crosshares, your armies and your riches. What was once a great kingdom was reduced to half its size and a fraction of its resources. And it would've stayed that way without our aid.

"Who lent you the spies necessary to blackmail as many rulers as you did? Who pacified the people of your rebellious allies with our religion? Who extended your influence as far as it is today? We did. The Church did."

"I am not your puppet!" Inferno screeched, and the room went silent. Jay's hand moved unconsciously towards his weapon's hilt. Jannis merely laughed.

"We don't ask that you be our puppet," he said. "All we want is your cooperation. But don't forget, Inferno. You may be sitting pretty now, but it was us who put you there."

"It's _Queen_ Inferno," she said through gritted teeth.

Jannis grinned. "Yes, it is."

"Enough, Jannis," Zissman commanded, satisfied with his rant. "Save your ire for the battlefield. Come along, it's getting late."

"Yes, Jannis," Inferno smiled smugly. "Obey your master."

"We all have our masters. It's best that we don't forget who they are." With that, Jannis gave a small bow and followed Zissman to their chambers.

Inferno and Jay watched as they exited, both aggravated. Jay huffed. "What I wouldn't give to knock them down a notch."

"Jannis is a dog," Inferno said. "He barks long and loud, but he's no danger so long as Zissman keeps him on a tight leash."

"Then it's Zissman we have to look out for."

"Very good, Jay. You understand." She stood up from her throne and began pacing around the throne room. "Unfortunately, Jannis is right. We do owe them quite a bit, and they remain an important part of our efforts. We cannot simply do away with the Church. They have too many followers. It's rather…" She trailed off, and suddenly, her expression lit up with an expression Jay knew all too well: she had an idea.

"What is it this time?" Jay asked, both curious and nervous.

"We will make the Church of Thorns the state church!" Inferno announced with pride in her voice.

Jay paused for a moment, unconvinced. "Okay… but how will that help you, exactly?"

"It's quite simple. The Church has converts everywhere, converts and travelers they brought with them from beyond the mountains. Their religion has spread more quickly than anybody ever imagined, and thus, they have significant sway in nearly every territory."

"Okay, I follow," Jay said, not quite following.

"If we make them the state church, the Church adherents will pressure the nations we still have under our control into staying loyal to us, for fear of an uprising or somesuch. We keep the Subreddit under my rule by threat of force. It's genius!"

"But what does this do to Zissman?" Jay asked, still unsure.

Inferno merely smiled and waved him off. "Fret not, that's the other half of the plan. By making the Church of Thorns the state church, we absorb them into our jurisdiction, make them subservient to the state. Then, perhaps after the war is over, we nudge Zissman to retire, or, barring that, off a balcony, and we elect his replacement. It will take some time, but we will have killed two birds with one stone."

Jay nodded as the plan pieced itself together in his mind. "It could backfire," he said.

"Yes, but it could work wonders," Inferno said. "Just you wait, Jay, you'll see." With that, she beckoned for him to follow her as she retired to her chambers and he worked another sleepless night outside her bedroom door.

"We both will, I suppose," Jay agreed, and his voice dropped down to barely a whisper. "One way or another."

* * *

As Zissman and Jannis entered their quarters, Jannis closed the door behind them and let out a loud groan.

Zissman sighed. "Yes, Jannis, I know, but we must deal with her for a while longer."

"Why?" Jannis asked, irritated. "Why must we suffer the presence of such a sinful warmonger? Are we not disciples first and missionaries second? We should have run her through as soon as we had the opportunity."

"Perhaps," Zissman said, taking a seat at his reading desk and opening the Holy Text. "Jannis, what does the Testimony of the Black Maiden, chapter 24, verses 34-35 tell us?"

Jannis cleared his throat and sat down on his bed, trying to remember. "It's been some time since I've brushed up on the Testimonies," he admitted sheepishly.

"They who suffer the sinful on account of their righteousness are blessed, but they who suffer the sinful to do righteousness are the true servants of the Most High." Zissman reclined in his chair, his point made.

"We should only suffer these heathens as long as absolutely necessary, Scion," Jannis retorted. "As soon as the dust settles, I say we chop off her head, blame it on whoever's convenient, and kill them while we pick a successor."

"Ah, Jannis, you're starting to sound like the natives." Zissman smiled as he saw a hint of revulsion cross Jannis' expression. "I like that you're picking up their intrigue, but remember: you are the sword of this Church. If the time comes for an armed uprising, you will raise our faithful against these heretics. But until that is both feasible and necessary, we will continue to puppet this war until we no longer need to hide behind Inferno."

"I don't like having to cower behind this woman for legitimacy," Jannis said, clearly agitated. "It doesn't matter how many followers we have if we aren't recognized by the nobility."

"I don't like it any more than you do, Jannis," Zissman calmly responded. "But fret not. Now there is a rebellion, a rebellion that will provide us the opportunity to uproot the malcontents. Once the rebels are dealt with, we focus all our efforts on converting this land and maintaining the status quo until, at last, the Church triumphs over all. Then, we will lay back and enjoy the fruits of our labors."

"And if we do not succeed in this fight?" Jannis asked, a vague eagerness behind the question. "What then?"

Zissman scratched his beard and laughed. "Then, Jannis, we put Inferno aside and take matters into our own hands."

"I like the sound of that," Jannis said. "By steel and fire will the impious be burned away."

"The Book of the Prophecies," Zissman said, smiling. "And here I thought you never got the chance to read the Old Scriptures."

"Only a few, but that one stuck out to me," Jannis admitted, and he yawned. "It's getting late. You can continue scheming in the morning."

"I think I will, thank you very much," Zissman responded dryly as he walked into the adjoining chamber. "Oh, and before I forget, remind me to speak to Anti in the morning. She's been very… reserved lately."

"Sure," Jannis mumbled, already half-asleep in full body armor. Zissman grumbled a bit before closing the door and kneeling down next to the bed.

From the drawer, he retrieved his pendant, which illustrated an ornate rose wrapped in a vine of thorns. He gripped it tightly and began the prayer of tribulation.

"Upon my head, I wear a crown of thorns, and in my hand a white rose I hold dear. Behind me, I am shamed and beat and scorned, and up ahead my fate draws ever near. I do not fear the dark of night; to those Above I pledge my plight. My Goddess is my saving light."

Zissman remained kneeling in meditation for a few more minutes before he silently donned his night clothes and set the pendant back in its drawer. He lay down on the bed and drifted off to sleep with dreams of triumph.

* * *

Anti paced in the palace plaza as the night grew ever darker and the moon began to illuminate the surroundings. The moonlight reflected off the statues and the small duck pond, making the shadows on the wall dance in celebration. It reminded her of her home.

No, Anti said to herself, she should not be thinking so emotionally. She took a seat on a bench, pulled out a ledger, and began to scan through it while her thoughts drifted away from her work.

Since Anti had joined with the Church and Faker, she'd been becoming more sentimental. Her father, and after he had passed, her older brother had always taught her to be pragmatic. To be practical. To be ruthless. And to be sure, she had plenty of opportunities to be that way with her new associates.

But she had a nagging feeling pulling her toward something she couldn't quite understand. Was it her conscience? Was it some sort of danger she felt? Some sort of fear?

Anti shook her head. Fear had no place in business, unless it was the fear of loss. So what was this then, this strange feeling?

It was some sort of attachment, Anti concluded, it had to be. She had always felt some sort of camaraderie with Faker and Jannis and Zissman, and later, even Inferno and Jay. Lately, it had become stronger, perhaps beyond camaraderie. Friendship? It had been a long time since she'd had a friend. Her business associates could be pleasant and chipper, but that was just pomp and procedure, to make sure the negotiations went smoothly. She felt like she could _trust_ these people.

But that was naive, Anti reminded herself. Trust was for consumers, not businesspeople. Whatever this attachment was, she would have to manage it. Besides, she had work to do in the face of an imminent rebellion. Inferno's army wouldn't arm itself.

It was getting late, she noted. Anti closed her ledger and decided to retire to her quarters and get a head start on her work tomorrow. Ignoring her nagging doubts, she went straight to bed.


	11. Chapter 11

**July 29, 4 BTC**

 **Crown Castle, Duchy of the Crownlands, Kingdom of Night's Watch**

Celtic's week had been a full one. His uncle had recently stepped up his efforts to teach him the proper ways of rulership and had arranged for his lieutenants to tutor him in the offices of leadership. He still trained with Yokei in the morning, but their sessions were becoming shorter as his schedule became fuller and fuller. Now he treasured the time he spent with his combat tutor as it became ever rarer.

Yokei charged him with a makeshift halberd, making wide, horizontal sweeps and Celtic deflected each with his training blade. He made sure to add in an exaggerated yawn in between Yokei's attacks.

"Is that all you've got, old man?" He tauntingly asked. Yokei huffed and brought the halberd up, preparing to bring it down on Celtic's head. Celtic, seeing his opportunity, opted to charge.

He received a swift kick in the gut, which sent him stumbling backwards. As he regained his footing, Celtic laughed as he saw Yokei struggle to heave the halberd up again, leaving himself wide open.

With a shout, Celtic leapt at Yokei, ready to end their duel. Yokei merely smiled and swung the halberd up with ease, knocking Celtic in the ear and effectively ending the match.

As the young man groaned on the ground, Yokei smiled triumphantly. "You lost."

"I did. I did," Celtic admitted, sweeping the dust off himself. "But why? My technique was good enough, wasn't it?"

"Your technique was fine," Yokei admitted. "Almost flawless, save for two errors."

"Let me guess: recklessness?" Celtic asked. Yokei nodded.

"At least you recognize it. Yes, your recklessness is a problem. As it was for your father, your uncle, and their father before them. It runs in the family. But I do have a solution."

"And what might that be?"

Yokei smiled and tossed him the mock halberd. "I'm suspending your sword practice. From now on, you train with the halberd. It'll teach you some patience."

Celtic caught the halberd and pouted. "But I don't like halberds. They're so bulky. And awkward. And long."

"Yes," Yokei nodded. "I know. But the point is to teach you precision and practice. Halberds and the like are difficult to master, and I know they can feel awkward. But if you do master them, you'll have mastered your flaw, and if you master your flaws…"

"I'll be unstoppable," Celtic finished. "So you've told me. But if I wanted something this big and bulky, I'd have taken a mace."

"A mace?" Yokei scoffed. "A mace is just a hunk of metal on the end of a stick. There's no artistry or technique with it. It's just… smash." He groaned. "A mace! Of all the…"

"What about my second error?" Celtic asked, rousing Yokei from his grumblings. "You said I made two. What's the second?"

"Oh, yes. When I had my halberd down on the ground, I pretended to be too tired to pick it up. You saw that, and you went in for the kill."

"What's so wrong about that?" Celtic grumbled. "Was I supposed to let you live?"

"Obviously not. Don't get snippy with me, boy," Yokei chided him. "But I deceived you. I tricked you into thinking that I was vulnerable, and you fell for it. _That_ was your second error."

Celtic nodded, absorbing the information. "Does this have anything to do with 'war being deception' or something like that? I hear Greatness say that a lot when he's tutoring me."

Yokei laughed and knelt down next to him. "It's not just on the battlefield, boy. It's any fight of any kind. Trade wars, politics, debates. Every confrontation, every altercation you will ever have will center on deception. Technique is all fine and good, but deception is the heart of all warfare. You'd do well to remember that."

"And what about allies?" Celtic asked. "In our lessons, Jokey says that every friend is just an enemy that hasn't attacked yet. Is that right?"

"Jokey can be a bit… zealous at times," Yokei admitted. "Keep that in mind. Now remember this, boy: war is based on deception, but alliances are based on trust. Even the strongest alliance can be destroyed by secrets. When in war, you must hold strong to your friends, because if you do not stand together, you will fall alone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Yokei." Celtic sighed and sheathed his practice sword. "I understand."

"Good." Yokei smiled, his point made. "Now, how about some lunch? I'm famished."

Celtic smiled, his spirits lightened a little. "That sounds good. I'd like to have something to eat before I listen to Uncle drone on about taxes and tariffs and whatnot."

"Yes," Yokei laughed as they began walking inside. "That sounds about right."

They smiled and laughed all the way into the banquet hall, but Yokei's grave warning lingered in the back of Celtic's mind.

* * *

 **December 3, 8 ATC**

 **Badaz Manor, City of Guns N' Roses, Duchy of Gunnia, Kingdom of Guns N' Roses**

For as long as Austin could remember, she had always wanted to live in a mansion. Or a manor. Or a castle. When she was an orphan, scrounging through the refuse of Prosthetium with her fellow street urchins, she dreamed of one day living in a big mansion on a hill, just like the Countess did. It was her only life goal.

Now, though, it just seemed gaudy.

Every room in the house was decorated with gold or silver, and one could find a painting of some famous scene or person from history in every hallway. "It's an acquired taste," Nitesco had told her. Austin believed it.

The only redeeming quality was the view. The manor was situated on the same hill as the palace and the embassies, and it afforded a beautiful view of the city. Austin had spent several hours over the last few days gazing out at the city, looking at the tiny rows of houses and the river. She would've sheltered herself by the window permanently if Nitesco and Gwydion hadn't allowed her to attend dinners and meetings.

By that window was where Gwydion found her that morning. She hadn't noticed him come in until he cleared his throat.

"Austin," he said curtly. "They're here."

"Who's they?" she asked. Hopefully not more Villainians. They came in two varieties: excessively loud and excessively cynical, and she was tired of both.

"Let's just say there's a lot of important people. Come now, the others will arrive soon, and we have much to discuss."

Austin nodded and followed Gwydion to the meeting room, wondering who had come to visit today. Maybe it was the Arkos delegation again. They had been around a lot recently. Or perhaps it was the Bumblebee delegation. Nitesco had said they would arrive at some point.

As Gwydion opened the doors, however, Austin was surprised to see King Coronam sitting at the opposite end of the table. Upon seeing her, Coronam smiled.

"Ah, Austin herself. It's a pleasure to finally have a chance to talk."

"Likewise, King," Austin responded, trying to seem sophisticated. "Though I haven't been told what we are here to talk about."

Nitesco, who was sitting on the long side of the table, beckoned for her and Gwydion to sit down next to him. "We are here to finalize the creation of a league against Inferno. The meetings we've had over the last few weeks were just to make sure everyone's on board. Now we get down to business to create a command structure and whatnot."

Austin sat down next to Nitesco. "So, what are we going to call it?"

Nitesco shrugged and fiddled with his cane. "We'll figure that out later. Right now, we just need to wait for our guests to arrive."

"That reminds me," Coronam said. "Opifexa, go and see how close the others are to arriving." The woman at his right nodded and promptly disappeared while Coronam turned to the man at his left.

"Cinder, go and fetch our honored guest."

Cinder nodded and began walking away. As he caught Austin's eye, he gave a small, mischievous wink before disappearing out the same door Opifexa left from.

"I recognize him," Austin whispered to Nitesco. He gave her a serious look and beckoned for her to lean closer.

"From where?"

"He was an associate of the Mask. He gave me, Jelo and Kazehh the contract to protect McDouggal."

Nitesco nodded slowly, considering this. "Well, I knew Coronam was planning a counterattack for some time. But his connections to the Mask are good to know."

Coronam and Nitesco scanned the room as more diplomats steadily came filing in, shepherded by Opifexa. At first, it was just the representatives of minor nations, probably hoping for some protection against Inferno's bulwark. After a little bit, more major nations began arriving. The Ilian League. Freezerburn. Nuts and Dolts. A few representatives from Yurist and Straightist churches even came. Eventually, nearly every chair at the table was filled, save for three.

"Are we ready to begin?" An impatient Rubian diplomat asked. "Nearly everyone's here. We might as well."

"No," Coronam hushed him. "We will not begin until they have arrived, especially since they are quite possibly the most important ones here."

"What is that supposed to mean?" A particularly belligerent Villainian called out. Austin sighed and stood to address her.

"We are missing Arkos," she said. "Who will provide a large portion of the troops and officers necessary for this act. We are missing Contramundi, who is in part responsible for this effort. And we are missing a third person," She beckoned at the empty seat opposite Coronam. "Who I am told is Coronam's honored guest. We're here to fight Inferno. Not each other."

The Villainian knit her fingers and fell into a dejected silence, while some of the leaders nodded, satisfied. Austin sat down with a not-insignificant feeling of pride, and Gwydion gave her an approving smile.

At last, the Arkos delegation arrived. Colonel Strike, dressed in a crimson officer's uniform, took the unoccupied seat directly across from Nitesco, while the other four Oligarchs stood behind him.

"Colonel Strike," Coronam said. "It's a pleasure to have you. Is General Zealander not in attendance?"

"No," Strike said, indignation in his voice. "He is back home, managing the mobilization. I will be representing Arkos in today's proceedings."

"Please, Colonel," Nitesco spoke up. "He meant no offense. All we want is to figure out our logistics and our plan."

"If we can't go a few hours without bickering, we have no hope against Inferno," Austin added. "Let's just try to be civil."

"Civil?" Strike asked, even more indignant. "I'm surprised that an upstart like you can sit there and speak of civility. What do you know about governance or, more importantly, the military? My nation is a proud nation of many honorable soldiers, and I will not have our dignity sullied by the insults of a commoner!"

"Watch your tongue, Oligarch," Gwydion gravely intoned. "May I remind you that both Nitesco and myself were born commoners? Because we were, and now look at us! You may have been born to be an officer, Strike, but don't forget that a commoner can do just as well."

"Enough!" Coronam yelled as he brought his fist down on the table. "If we turn on each other now, we are doomed. As a great man once said, we must all stand together, or we will all fall alone."

"Well said, my liege." The diplomats turned to see who had entered the room and saw that Cinder had returned, with a limping Contramundi in tow.

"I agree. Well said." Contramundi took a seat next to Coronam, wincing as he sat down.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," a gravelly voice echoed from behind them, and a man dressed in a mask and a deep green cloak walked in behind them. The Mask.

"The Mask!" An old Heroan diplomat stood up and drew his dagger. The Mask merely laughed him off.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You've still got a few years left, I'd wager, and I'd hate to have to beat them out of you."

"Oh, good" Strike muttered. "The peasantry strikes back." Gwydion and Austin both glared at him.

"Is all you're good for mouthing off at common-borns, Strike?" Cinder asked apprehensively. "Because if it is, I see why Zealander's made you his bitch."

"What did you say?" Strike stood up and clenched his fists, while Coronam glared harshly at his spymaster. Governor Wingnut sat Strike back down in his chair while Nitesco turned toward the Mask.

"May I ask why you are here?" Nitesco said as the Mask took the empty seat across from Coronam. Even though the mask hid his face, Nitesco could tell the man was smiling beneath it.

"Because Coronam asked me to be here," the Mask said smugly. "I am his honored guest."

"Before you all tear into me," Coronam spoke up, noticing the accusatory glances at him. "You must know that we have the disadvantage. Inferno has the law. She has her supporters, she has her blackmailed allies, and she has the Church, as far as we can tell. The Mask can afford us some balance: black market weapons and materials for our army, spies and assassins for our intelligence divisions, and mercenaries if we really need them. I'm not too fond of this either, but we don't really have a choice if we want to survive more than a few months. His help can speed up mobilization and the war."

"Now that was well-said," the Mask remarked. "But I digress. You all go on with your little meeting. I'm just here to get estimates."

There was an uneasy silence in the room, and Nitesco sighed. "Well, we're off to a great start," he muttered under his breath. Louder, he continued, "But we've tarried enough. Let's begin with troop estimates…"

* * *

"The Renoran and Arkosian militaries will be able to mobilize more quickly than other nations," Coronam said. "But our numbers alone aren't enough to hold the region. Lords of Rubia, you must be as quick as you can to mobilize your armies, because our goal here is to strike quickly and concisely. We must weaken Inferno's foothold in Rubia as much as we can as quickly as quickly as we can before she shores up her defenses there."

"What about the other theatres of the war?" A Villainian nobleman asked. "What is the plan there?"

"Rubia is our main concern," Coronam said. "She has too few allies in Junipera to have any chance of surviving there. Villainia will be hotly contested, but our footholds there are too far from Inferno's heartland to be of any real strategic use. Their purpose is to weaken Inferno's strongholds there so she has nowhere secure to fall back on once we take her out.

"What of Heroa?" A Heroan man with a thick accent asked. "We have a couple strongholds there, but Inferno's hold there is very strong."

Coronam sighed. "Well, yes. That is a problem. We will make no offensives in Heroa; our footholds there are too far to the south. Mobilize your troops and bunker down. Defense should be your priority."

"How many troops do you think we have?" The man asked. "We can't outlast Inferno!"

"I can get you into contact with some mercenaries, if you'd like," the Mask said.

Colonel Strike scoffed. "Figures you'd find some way to profit off of this. Why are you even here?"

"To protect my investments," the Mask stated plainly. "It's just good business."

"Do you even care that we are trying to protect the entire Subreddit from a tyrant?" Strike asked, agitated.

The Mask laughed and kicked his feet up on the table. "Boy, if I had two fucks to give, I'd sell them at a profit. I'm not keen on pissing away what I've built on an ideological quibble. Be grateful I'm here to get you a head start on supplies and whatnot."

"Speaking of supplies," Coronam interjected, silencing Strike before he had a chance to fire back. "That forays well into our next presentation. Austin, Gwydion. I understand you have a presentation on this for us?"

"Yes, King," Austin said. "As with any operation of this scale, supply will be a major concern. We have a lot of soldiers, but we don't have the supplies to feed all of them for long. We'll need to make sure we keep our troops well fed by moving through friendly or fully occupied territory, and be sure not to overextend, lest our enemies encircle us." She pulled out a folded-up paper from her pocket and unfolded it, revealing a map of the Subreddit marked with several circles and X's. "Gwydion and I have looked at a few key locations that we'll need to secure if we want to completely uproot Inferno with minimal casualties."

One of the minor lords in attendance muttered, "I bet she doesn't understand half of those big words she's using." He and the man he was speaking to snickered.

Austin, with trained ears, heard this exchange. "Do you have a strategic suggestion, Baron?"

The baron went wide-eyed, suddenly the center of attention. "No," he said hastily, "None."

Austin folded her arms. "I didn't think so. This is an important meeting, Baron, and I would kindly ask that you don't disrupt it." She gestured to Gwydion. "Gwydion, would you like to elaborate on our troop movements?"

"Of course," he said. "We've identified several locations through each region that are vital for us to take, or at least hold. As for the path to Inferno specifically, I've identified the most convenient route. We will begin here, in Guns N' Roses. Our soldiers and Coronam's soldiers will march from two separate directions and meet here, at Monochrome."

"From there, we will take Lancaster next, which will allow us to hop across the river into the least-defended area of Crosshares territory. From there, we march on Inferno's private fortress, cut off her head, stick it on a pike and be done with this debacle. The other regions should fall in short order, and if not, I've identified similar strategies for each of them." Gwydion rolled up the map and set it aside as he finished the presentation. "Any questions?"

No hands went up, and Nitesco smiled.

"Very good," Nitesco said. "Now, we've gone over troop estimates, weapon estimates, timetables, finances, intelligence and campaign planning. What does that leave us?"

"That would leave, uh, leadership," Gwydion answered. Nitesco's shoulders slouched a bit. Deciding who would be the leader would be what would make or break the League.

"Okay," Nitesco said. "Any suggestions?"

Surprisingly, not everybody jumped at the chance to assume command of the League. Unsurprisingly, the Arkos Oligarchs raised their hands.

Admiral Bluewhale spoke up. "I propose that the Arkos Oligarchs assume command over the League."

"Are there any who second this motion?" Nitesco asked. No hands went up.

"Sorry," Nitesco said. The Admiral lowered his head in shame. "Any other suggestions?"

Coronam raised his hand. "I propose that I assume command of the League."

"Are there any who second this motion?" Several hands went up. Nitesco nodded.

"Any other suggestions?" He parroted. Two more hands went up: Contramundi and the Mask. Nitesco decided to ask Contramundi first.

"Contramundi. Your suggestion?"

Contramundi did his best to stand, but gave up and remained in his seat. "I propose that you, Nitesco, run the League."

"Ah. That's fine with me. Any supporters?" More hands went up, mostly Rubians. "Okay, I am now a contender." He sighed. "Mask?"

"Hold on," Strike spoke up. "This man is a criminal. Why are we even considering his opinion?"

"Because, boy, I'm funding half your damn war." The Mask sighed indignantly. "I vote that Austin assume command of the League."

Murmurs went through the diplomats. Austin sat frozen.

"Before we start raising hell," Gwydion said, "let's confirm it. Austin, do you accept the nomination?"

Did she accept? Should she? Austin looked to Gwydion for advice, a signal, some kind of help. She found no assistance in his face. Just sympathy, and the lingering question. She steeled herself, ignored the rapid beating of her heart, and answered.

"I accept the nomination," she declared. The commotion among the diplomats resumed.

Nitesco sighed once again. "Are there any who second this motion?" He asked hesitantly. To Austin's surprise, several diplomats raised their hands.

At this, both Coronam and Nitesco knit their hands together. No potential leader had a majority. Despite this, Nitesco decided to go ahead with the vote.

"All those in favor of—"

"Now just you wait!" A Juniperan man stood up. "What is that going to do? Nobody has the majority here. The only person to have a legitimate claim to leadership is Coronam!"

"Why is that?" A Rubian woman stood up. "Because he's Juniperan? He'll just make himself a new Inferno at the end of this!"

"This is why we need the girl!" A Villainian Presbyter exclaimed. "She's not a politician. She won't mire us in politics like this!"

"But she has no experience, fool!" Colonel Strike spoke up. "At least the others, bloodsuckers they may be, have some!"

"What do you mean, bloodsuckers?" Opifexa and Cinder asked in unison. Soon, the entire chamber devolved into meaningless white noise, diplomats and lord shouting at each other, some for no other reason than to say something. It was just like the Diet.

Coronam steepled his fingers. He had to bring them together. Yokei would've told him to try and inspire their trust, but clearly, that was beyond his current skillset. If they couldn't have trust, then tolerance would have to do.

"Stop!" Coronam yelled, and the conversation dimmed significantly. "Stop. I have a suggestion. Nitesco, Austin and I could, um…." He paused, trying to think of a solution. "We could co-lead."

The room went silent. Austin looked at Coronam, then at Nitesco. She shrugged.

"Should we put it to a vote?"

Nitesco cleared his throat. "All those in favor of co-leadership between myself, Coronam and Austin?"

Almost every hand in the room, even the stubborn Arkosians', went up.

Nitesco, Austin and Coronam looked at each other with some unease. "So," Coronam said. "That's it then?"

"Well, not quite," Nitesco said. "We still need a name for our organization."

"Oh, for—" Gwydion impatiently stood up and groaned loudly. "The Badaz League. We will now be known as the Badaz League."

"And why's that?" Opifexa asked.

"This is the Badaz manor," Gwydion said, making exaggerated gestures to the house around him, "Let's just call ourselves the Badaz League."

"Good enough for me," Contramundi said. "I just want to go back to my quarters. It's getting late."

Murmurs of agreement. Nitesco nodded. "Then we'll adjourn for today. The Badaz League will meet tomorrow to fine-tune our strategies."

"Hey," Austin said with a grin on her face. "That's pretty… Badaz?"

The joke got a few chuckles, but most of the people in the room ignored it. As the diplomats filed out, Nitesco placed a hand on Austin's shoulder.

"I thought it was funny." He smiled. "Come on. It's getting late."

"I suppose," Austin sighed. And so, they adjourned the first meeting of the Badaz League.


	12. Chapter 12

**January 12, 9 ATC**

 **City of Blacksnow, Prefecture of Lesser Monochrome, Principality of Monochrome**

As Anti disembarked, she was struck by how warm the city was. Monochrome, being centered around the mountains where they mined most of their exports, was often characterized as a frozen nation whose people were just as cold as the climate. But here, the climate was just a little warmer than in her native Ladybug. Most interesting. Maybe she would enjoy her stay here after all, however brief.

"Miss Logic?"

As Anti looked into the crowd, she noticed a detachment of Monochromian guardsmen walking towards her, all bearing gruff, aloof expressions. She may have been wrong about the climate, but she certainly wasn't wrong about the people.

She raised her hand. "I am she."

The captain of the guard halted the group and quickly looked her over for any possible weapons. He leaned back slightly and raised his eyebrow.

"I was told we were to receive one of Inferno's lieutenants, not some… inland trader."

Anti scoffed and raised her eyebrows back at him. "Dear me. Did your parents never teach you proper courtesy? Wait, never mind. This is Monochrome, of course they didn't."

Instead of being taken aback, the guardsman merely laughed. "A quick wit. I can respect that. But I still don't understand why you came all the way here from whatever comfy place Inferno's set up for you."

"Captain, if that is your rank," Anti said. "You should know that the only thing I dislike more than disrespect is nosiness. I suggest you do what you were sent here to do and take me to your leader."

The captain huffed. "Fine. Men, rally up. We're taking her to Onyzyon's manor."

The other three soldiers took their positions around Anti, and they began marching through the city, up the hill to the Grand Prince's estate. Anti examined her surroundings: the soldiers were on edge, as were the traders. There were patrols of at least two squads out and about. The Monochromians seemed to share her suspicions, and if they were correct, then the rebels would be marching on Monochrome soon. All the better for her.

At last, they found their way to the manor, which sat on a small hill near the river's edge. The soldiers at the gate stepped aside and allowed the patrol to take Anti inside.

Once they were in the foyer, the guardsmen sat Anti down on a couch and began to leave. Before they did, the guard captain turned to Anti.

"Grand Prince Onyzyon will see you when he is ready. Do not leave the foyer. Do not put your feet on anything other than the ground. Notify one of us if you must use the latrine."

Anti nodded politely and stretched out on the couch. Onyzyon did not take her seriously, she thought. She knew that he thought he had the upper hand in these negotiations. She knew he would keep her waiting, because he thought that would irritate her. She knew how these things went. But that wouldn't stop her. Why would it, when she would have the upper hand very soon?

Anti grinned in anticipation and kicked her feet up on the porcelain coffee table. Yes, she thought to herself, very soon.

* * *

Austin raised her hand to her eyes, scouting out the city's defenses. On the left, facing the city, was a large wheat field near a line of trees on the riverbank, around which enemy platoons were marching. On the main road into the city, several Monochromian legions had dug in and prepared barricades, determined not to be the first casualties of the rebellion. On the right, there was a large, dark thicket of trees.

Nitesco tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned to face him. "Yes, Nitesco?"

"How goes the strategizing?" He asked, leaning on his cane. Austin shrugged.

"Well, that thicket of trees would make an attack through there difficult, and the defenses near the fields aren't as secure as the ones at the main gate. We send a few battalions to neutralize the fields and we send our main attack force towards the gate. Thoughts?"

Nitesco stroked his chin and nodded. "I'm pleased with you. You've taken to strategy. It's exactly the one I came up with myself."

Austin's face fell slightly. "If you had your own strategy, why'd you ask my advice?"

"To hear what you had to say. And I'm pleased that you've made these observations." He smiled. "You're almost as good at this as I am."

"Hmph," Austin muttered, letting a small smile slide onto her face. "How's the leg?"

Nitesco sighed. "Ah, it's a little more painful than usual, but it'll pass. It always does."

"It seemed fine at Enabler."

"It seemed fine because none of Faker's grunts knew to stab at it. That, and I can balance on it fairly well without a cane if I've got the adrenaline for it."

"I'll take your word for it," Austin said. They stood a little while longer, looking out at the horizon from their hill. Eventually, they heard someone coming up behind them.

"Nitesco! Austin!" Gwydion said. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

"Where did you think we were?" Nitesco said. "I told you we'd be up on the hill. Twice." He snickered and flicked the side of Gwydion's head. "I think you're getting old, Gwydion."

"Oy!" Gwydion slapped his hand away. "Don't mess with my hair. And I'm not that old, mind you. Austin was about sixty when he took down Celtic."

"Oh, that sounds like him all right," Austin said. "Ever the stubborn one."

"Oh, he was plenty stubborn," Nitesco said. "But we can talk about that another time. Or you could read our collective memoirs." He smiled. "I hear they're a best-seller."

"The earnings from that will set up your descendants for generations, Nitesco," Gwydion said, smiling. "Oh, and before I forget, Austin has some visitors."

"From whom?" Nitesco asked. Two men turned a corner behind Gwydion, and Austin instantly recognized them.

"Kazehh! Jelo!" She exclaimed.

"Austin!" Kazehh said. "You didn't think you could escape us forever, did you?"

"Not that you'd want to anyway, right?" Jelo asked playfully. "Put her there!" Austin took Jelo's hand and instantly regretted it as his bone-shattering grip closed around her fingers.

"Boy, it's been some time since the Diet," Austin said, wriggling out of Jelo's crushing handshake. "What are you two doing here?"

"Well, we're here on behalf of the Mask," Kazehh noted, somewhat dour. "To make sure that you didn't, and I quote, squander his investment."

"But we took the job because you were here," Jelo explained. "And now we get to fight together again, just like the old days!"

"That's very sweet," Gwydion interrupted. "And I hate to cut this short, but it's time to debrief the troops. Some of them are getting antsy."

"Fine. Shall we, Austin?" Nitesco asked. She smiled.

"Let's." They trekked down the long hill path to where the soldiers were stationed, and the two took their spots in front of the unit commanders.

"Okay, we've devised a strategy," Austin announced. "The 6th and 7th Arkos regiments will sweep through the fields on the left flank to clear out any Monochromians there. The rest of the infantry soldiers will join Nitesco and I as we descend on the main road. Be ready for an attack from the forests on the right flank."

"Gwydion, you'll stay here with the artillerymen and rail on them from afar. Don't hit the city if you don't have to," Nitesco interjected. "Civilian casualties are not our goal, understood?"

The unit commanders nodded and left to inform their soldiers of their orders while Gwydion left to begin preparing the artillery. Nitesco patted Austin on the shoulder and gave her a thumbs up.

"Well done. Very authoritative," he remarked. She grinned.

"As always." She turned to Kazehh and Jelo. "Are you guys ready for a fight?"

"Always," said Kazehh.

"When aren't we?" Jelo asked.

Austin nodded and put her hand on her sword's hilt. "Alright then. To battle!"

* * *

Anti had nearly fallen asleep when one of Onyzyon's servants came out to fetch her. As she stirred, she came face-to-face with a very gruff old woman.

"The Grand Prince awaits," she said curtly. Anti grunted and followed her to Onyzyon's quarters.

She arrived in a spacious office that overlooked the city and the fields outside of it. The office itself, however, was rather simple: only a desk, two chairs, and a small tea table decorated the otherwise bland room. For all his pomp and procedure, Anti was taken aback by the simplicity of the environment Onyzyon kept himself in.

"Miss Logic. Please, sit." Onyzyon gestured to the chair in front of his desk before turning to his servant. "Give us some privacy, please."

The old woman nodded and closed the door behind them, while Anti sat down in her seat. Onyzyon steepled his fingers and smiled.

"Miss Logic. A pleasure."

"Likewise, Prince," Anti said. "It's warmer here than I thought it would be."

"Indeed, but that is not why you came. You know that there is nothing a Monochromian hates more than dawdling. Save the traders, perhaps." He snickered. "What are Inferno's requests?"

"Nothing exorbitant," Anti said. "Ten percent of your mining profits. Ten percent of your trading profits. Use of some of your levies when desired. Not too much more than that."

Onyzyon leaned back in his chair and furrowed his brow. "That can't be it."

"What?" Anti asked. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, young lady. I've been in this business since before you were born. If all Inferno wanted to do was haggle over tribute rates, she would've sent some messenger. And she would've demanded, not asked." He scratched his cheek, thinking. "You have some stake in this. What do you want?"

Anti smirked, amused. She hadn't anticipated him catching on, especially not before she even began her manipulations. She decided it was best to acquiesce.

"Fine. I came here to make a trade deal of my own."

"With what?" Onyzyon asked. "What does Ladybug have to trade that we don't already have?"

Anti shrugged. "Safety. Monochrome is in a very strategically valuable location, especially this port city. And judging by the soldiers you have stationed outside, I'm guessing you've made that observation too.

"I can offer you safe passage out of Monochrome. The rebels have strength in numbers, and they have the support of both Nitesco and Coronam. Your forces won't be able to hold them back forever, but you don't need to go down with the proverbial ship. I can get you out of here alive."

Onyzyon considered this for a moment, then merely laughed. "No. I already have an escape route. I can take a boat across the river to Lancaster if need be."

"But Lancaster's closed its river ports, by order of Inferno. Nobody's getting in or out through their cities. Plus, do you really think they haven't planned for that? Renora's got their riverboats patrolling the north, and Arkos the south." Anti paused. "You're surrounded, Grand Prince."

"Not for very much longer," he retorted, a smug smile crossing his face. "I have a plan. I will crush the invasion force, which will cripple the rebellion before it begins. And then, Inferno will reward me greatly. If I'm feeling generous, I'll leave out the part about you trying to blackmail me."

Both of them walked over to the office window to watch the armies close in on one another on the battlefield.

"We will see," Anti intoned, watching as the rebel army began bearing down on the Monochromian barricades. "We will see."

* * *

Austin wasn't as nervous as she'd thought she would be. As her forces met the Monochromians, she thought she would have to fight against her fear, that she would have to force herself into courage. Instead, she found herself falling into the rhythm of battle almost naturally. The clash of blades, the sounds of battle. She did not have any particular love for them, but she felt them drive her forward.

Austin fell upon a Monochromian grunt, cleaving a large opening in his stomach. "Pikesmen!" She bellowed to a group of pikesmen to her right. "To me! Cover my charge!"

"Aye!" They cried, and they fell into formation in front of her. "Forward!" Austin cried, and she lifted her sword into the air as the soldiers around her pressed into another Monochromian barricade. The gates were still far away, and their defenses were thick, but if they uprooted the barricades, the city would certainly surrender. All they had to do was keep moving forward.

"Austin!" somebody cried her name, and she turned around to see Nitesco wrenching his sword out of a Monochromian knight's back. He looked up and smiled.

"So far so good!" He said jovially. "But let's not dawdle longer. I want to clear out the defenses before Coronam gets here."

"Sounds like a plan," she said, smiling. Austin readied her shield and joined the charge.

Vaulting over a rock, she landed on a Monochromian soldier who was lying face-down on the ground and joined the fray. After lifting her shield to stop a stray arrow, she charged and swung madly, cutting down a few unaware enemies before locking swords with a Monochromian knight.

"Another brat to cut down," he snarled. Austin smirked at him and reeled back for a swing, but the knight sidestepped it.

They locked swords again, dancing across the battlefield, neither one quite able to overpower the other. Austin decided to try a trick she learned on the streets of Prosthetium: the joint sweep.

As Austin met the knight's blade again, she pressed into him with more pressure than she usually would. As soon as her opponent leaned back, she brought her foot down on the inside of his knee, bringing him to the ground.

As she raised her blade to strike him down, she became fleetingly aware of another knight in her peripheral vision. She turned and met the gaze of a new knight, who was swinging her blade at Austin's throat. Austin just barely brought her sword down in time to deflect it, but it was knocked from her hand.

"You alright, James?" The female knight asked. The male knight grabbed his sword and stood up.

"Never better. Now, let's finish this!" He lifted his sword to strike at Austin, but he was stopped by a crescent axe cleaving through his throat.

"James!" The knightess cried, but somebody else leaped on her and brought their mace down into her skull before she could do anything else. Austin looked up and saw that, somehow, Kazehh and Jelo had come to her rescue.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she said, grinning. "I'm never going to live this down."

"Damn right you're not," Kazehh remarked, wiping blood off his axe. "You owe us a drink for that."

"I'm sure you'll rescue us in return," Jelo said, picking bits of knightess off his spiked mace. Austin laughed and picked up her sword.

"Oh, shut up. Come on, let's regroup!"

They rejoined the rest of their army, which was railing against the middle layer of Monochrome's defenses. As they cut their way through the fray, they came across Nitesco, who was slumped on a wooden barricade and clutching his bloodied leg.

"Nitesco!" Austin cried, and she ran to his side. "What happened?"

He coughed and waved her off. "Just a scrape. Got a little too reckless with a skirmisher. She's gone, I'm still here, that's what matters. Now," he said, standing. Let's get—"

"Commander Nitesco!" An Arkosian soldier ran over a hill and collapsed on his knees at their feet. "Commander, they've… they've…" He leaned over on his hands and knees and coughed up blood.

"Easy, son." Austin patted him on the back. "What happened?"

"The Monochromians… ambushed us. Hiding in the… the trees near the riverbank. They surrounded us and pushed us over here…" He coughed up some more blood. "Got me… pretty good too." He collapsed next to Nitesco, barely breathing.

"Austin." Nitesco grabbed her arm and wheezed. "I'm out of the fight for now. You go on ahead. I trust you."

Austin looked down at the ground, sweating profusely. She had been doing fine so far, but now that Nitesco was out for the count, it was all on her.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. Jelo, Kazehh, protect Nitesco. I'll rally the troops." The two mercenaries nodded and readied their weapons while Austin went to ready the soldiers.

"Men!" She cried. "Rally around me! Form a defense towards the center and left!"

The soldiers obeyed quickly and efficiently, ducking behind their shields and the preformed barricades around Austin and Nitesco. They buckled down and raised their weapons as the Monochromians streamed over the hills from the left flank and the barricades from the front and met them with steel.

For the moment, she and her friends were safe. Austin ducked down behind a rock and took a second to collect her thoughts. Unfortunately, she did not get to enjoy her rest for long.

"Commander!" An Enablerese soldier rushed to her side. "They're attacking from the forest!"

In horror, Austin looked up and saw that Monochromians were flowing out from the treeline and down onto their position. It was a trap all along, of course. How had she not seen it? They had boxed her in and made them face away from the treeline. She had left them exposed to attack.

"Soldiers!" She bellowed. "Rally to the right flank!"

Some of the soldiers in the defensive line turned around to defend their right flank, but their absence drained the defense. The Monochromians began pressing harder, and the defenses sagged on all sides. They were completely surrounded, and the situation was quickly devolving into a rout.

"Sir, we are surrounded!" The Enablerese soldier yelled, stating the obvious. "What do we do?"

Austin swallowed and found herself at a loss for words. She had no idea what to do. She would likely die a failure to her soldiers, and to her friends.

Before she had a chance to finish composing some half-baked strategy, though, she saw something coming out of the treeline behind the Monochromian ambush.

Coronam. The Renoran cavalry, resplendent in their shining armor, had come to the rescue.

The Renorans took the Monochromians by surprise, slicing the attackers from the right flank to pieces. As the cavalry rode around the sides of the Monochromian assault, the foot soldiers went straight to the defensive line, reinforcing their sagging defense and pushing the Monochromians back. What had been an almost hopeless situation had just turned into a rout. Austin could hardly believe her luck.

The Monochromians soon gave way into retreat, not expecting such a massive and relentless assault. As the Renoran cavalry gave chase, Coronam and his private guard dismounted next to Austin.

"Austin," Coronam said.

"Coronam," Austin said. "You arrived just in time."

"So it seems." He paused. "Where is Nitesco?"

"He's been heavily injured. He should survive, but his leg is in bad shape."

"Hmm." Coronam sighed. "One of our commanders, already out of commission." He looked around, watching as his soldiers picked up the bodies of their fallen and helped the wounded to their feet. "Were you responsible for this?"

Austin suddenly felt whatever authority she thought she had drain from her. "Yes," she mumbled sheepishly.

Coronam pursed his lips in disappointment. "Then we will talk about this later. For now, ready what men you have left and tell them we are going to breach the city." He got back on his horse and stared her in the eye. "And _I_ will lead this wave of the assault."

As he rode away, Austin walked over to Nitesco's location. Jelo had received a large cut on his forehead and Kazehh was bleeding from his right shoulder, but they were fine otherwise. Nitesco was still slumped against the barricade next to the corpse of the Arkosian soldier.

"Austin," he mumbled. "You still alive?"

She laughed halfheartedly. "Mostly. Coronam arrived, and he'll lead the siege of the city." She paused. "He's the reason we're still alive."

"Oh, Austin." Nitesco sighed and turned to meet her gaze. "Don't take it too hard. We all make mistakes. That's why we have each other."

"Yes," Austin said, unconvinced. She sat down next to him against the barricade. "Of course."

* * *

Onyzyon watched in horror as the Renoran forces routed his forces and prepared to lay siege to the city. Next to him, Anti smiled.

"I have a ship waiting," she said. "Unmarked. A civilian vessel, with false Arkosian identity documents and a secret compartment for you and whoever you wish to bring along."

"And what of the deal you wanted?" He asked, his expression flat. "What do you want of me?"

Anti shrugged. "Now's not the time for negotiations, but trust me, I have a long list waiting on that vessel." She turned to leave. "Are you coming?"

"I cannot simply… leave my city," he said. "My people. I can't leave them to these barbarians."

"Well, you can stay and deal with Coronam or you can come with us and smooth this out when it's all over. It's up to you, but I'm leaving."

"Wait," he said, defeated. "Wait. I'll come. I'll sign whatever deal you want. Just don't hand me over to Coronam." He sighed. "I'll go fetch my family and the advisors I brought with me."

"Do it quickly," Anti said. "I wouldn't want to leave without you. That would be such a waste."

As Onyzyon went to gather his entourage, Anti entered the streets of Monochrome and began walking to the docks. The citizens had begun to realize what was happening, but it mattered little. If they were lucky, Nitesco would be the one marching their soldiers through the gates. If they weren't, Coronam would make sure his soldiers did not walk away from the city empty-handed.

She boarded the ship and looked over the list for Onyzyon. The tribute to Inferno, of course, but also other items: a large portion of their ore to Ladybug, some territory in the east and representation in their legislature to her family members, the lifting of all tariffs, just to start. But soon, she could return to Ladybug proud to be a lady of House Logic, as she always intended.

She watched the citizens flee through the streets, terrified that the rebels were at their doorsteps. It brought her little joy to watch as the Monochromians, the proud people who had terrorized Ladybug for centuries, scatter like scared insects.

But sometimes, a little joy was all she needed. Yes, she thought to herself, she did enjoy her visit here after all.


	13. Chapter 13

**January 13, 9 ATC**

 **City of Blacksnow, Prefecture of Lesser Monochrome, Principality of Monochrome**

"What happened?" Coronam demanded.

Opifexa watched as Austin shifted in her seat. She pitied the poor girl. Austin had done fairly well during most of the battle, but her slip at the end had led her to be on the receiving end of Coronam's anger, a position few wanted to be in.

"I made an error," she responded calmly. A pause. Opifexa beckoned for her to continue, and she did. "When the Monochromians ambushed us from the south ridge, I ordered my forces to put up a defensive line there. This opened us up to an attack on the north ridge."

"Well, at least you know what you did wrong," Coronam said. He pursed his lips in disappointment. "I will grant that you are an effective battlefield commander. Your forces captured the enemy's defenses more quickly than I expected. But you are a poor strategist. You fell right into their trap.

"Let me make this clear," he continued. "You cannot commit errors like this. We are fighting an uphill war. Inferno has the legal, the economic and the military advantages. You are lucky that we arrived on time, but we cannot rely on luck to carry us to victory. We must perform at our best if we are to succeed. Am I understood?"

Austin grimaced. "Remember, King, that I am a commander as well. We are equals in rank."

Coronam laughed haughtily. "In name, perhaps. But until you prove your worth, you are just another jumped-up peasant surrounded by her betters."

"Nitesco was a "jumped-up peasant" at one point too, _Coronam,_ " Austin spat back. "And now he is the most respected man in all the Subreddit."

"One of him is quite enough," Coronam said coldly. "Speaking of, you should go check on him. I want at least one competent ally."

Austin growled but kept her peace, leaving the room without another word. Once she was out of an earshot, Coronam pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You mustn't be too harsh if you want to breed cooperation," Opifexa chided him.

"She must learn the way of things," Coronam replied. "We cannot tolerate failures or mistakes. We cannot allow weakness."

"Disunity is weakness!" Opifexa exclaimed. "We can't make ourselves stronger by creating a divide between you and the other commanders."

"Nitesco is out of the fight," Coronam countered. "It's just me and her for now. And she is clearly unqualified."

"She is responsible for holding the Mask and our allies in Villainia and Heroa together with us. And she is not as hopeless as you make her out to be. She is a crude weapon, but she can be honed into a fine one if we do it correctly. And if we properly limit Nitesco's influence on her. But that requires you to be a little more…" she hesitated. "More compromising."

Coronam sighed and rested his head on his fist. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and nodded.

"Fair enough. Fair enough. But I stand by what I said about mistakes. We cannot afford to make them, and I will make sure that she understands that before doing anything diplomatic." The sarcastic emphasis on the last word made Opifexa frown before she noticed that they were not alone.

"Did I miss something?" Zealander asked as he entered the room.

"General Zealander." Coronam stood to greet his visitor and life returned to his expression. "Finally, a competent officer. You haven't missed anything of note. How goes the war in Junipera?"

"Almost all pockets of resistance have been crushed," Zealander said. There are some holdouts on the coast, and Lancaster has fortified far beyond what we thought capable, but it is mostly ours."

Coronam stroked his chin and sat down in his chair. "And the blockade?"

"It remains strong. Nobody from Lancaster is getting in or out. Though Inferno insists on sending her river vessels to attack ours, we can hold out for long enough."

"Good," Coronam said. "With the river secured, we can cut off Inferno's reinforcements to the north and cross the river to attack Lancaster. If we keep this up, the war will be over within the year."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Zealander said. "What were our losses from the battle?"

"Not enough to cripple us," Opifexa said. "But we did lose a sizable number of soldiers. I advise caution in future battles."

"Well, look at that," Zealander laughed. "She knows more about the League than we do. We should put her in charge."

"Oh, I'm flattered," Opifexa chuckled. "But I know nothing about warfare or tactics. I'm a numbers woman, plain and simple."

"Well, you have to be good at what you do for Coronam to keep you around for so long. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must speak with Colonel Strike. If you have troop estimates, we can plot out how we'll approach an invasion of Lancaster."

Opifexa handed him a ledger, and Zealander politely smiled and exited the room. After he left, Coronam sighed.

"He's a good man. It's a shame he has to hide who he is from his people."

"Don't you, too?" Opifexa asked.

"We all do, to some extent. But I've always been Coronam. How long do you think he's lived as Zealander? Five years? He's still not used to it, I can tell."

Opifexa studied Coronam's face. There was something there, but she wasn't sure what.

"Are you concerned he'll slip up? That he'll reveal who you are?"

Coronam shook his head. "I've dealt with those rumors in the past. I'm more concerned about him. More importantly, I'm concerned about his fellow Oligarchs. All good folk, but zealously loyal to Arkos. I'm concerned that they might turn on him one day."

"He's smarter than that. If they wanted him gone, they would have done it already." Opifexa paused. "No, the Oligarchs are not a concern. I'm more concerned about Nitesco and Gwydion."

Coronam sat back down and began sifting through the desk for a liquor cabinet. "Why? They have no reason to suspect anything. Vulpix has hidden himself well. I didn't know who he was for five years."

"You barely had the chance to see him," Opifexa responded. "They have had prolonged exposure. How long do you think it'll be until they figure it out?"

"Hopefully a while," Coronam said as he gleefully opened the cabinet. "You give them too much credit. They're distracted by the war; they don't have the time to go around looking for ghosts. After the war is over, he'll probably never talk with them again. Would you like a glass?"

"You don't give them enough credit, I think," Opifexa said. "I wouldn't put it past either of them to bumble into some proof that you or he are not who you say you are. I'd be on my guard if I were you. And yes, I would like a glass. Anything will do."

Coronam uncorked a wine bottle and poured two glasses. "The gravity of the situation does not escape me. But if all we're counting on is those two fumbling their way to success, I think the odds are in our favor."

Opifexa considered the thought. "Fair enough, I guess." She picked up a glass. "But we should be on our guard."

"I always am," Coronam said, raising his glass. "Let's have a toast to our fortune: to our victory, and to our allies' obliviousness."

"I can drink to that," Opifexa said lightheartedly. As they threw back their glasses, it was they who remained oblivious to the man just on the other side of the wall.

* * *

Gwydion stood by Nitesco's side in his room, watching his battle-weary friend who had suddenly become a child again. Yesterday Nitesco's leg had been removed, and Gwydion had gone through the long, exhausting process of replacing it while keeping the risk of sepsis as low as could be expected. Nitesco stared at his leg in wonder, moving his leg up and down, enraptured.

"What did you say this was made from again?" He asked, tapping the metal on it.

"A special blend of iron and some rarer metals, to make it lighter. I made it some time ago, just in case you ever decided you wanted that hunk of scar tissue you called a leg removed. Cost a pretty penny, but I just put it under 'State Expenses'."

Nitesco gave him a wary glance. "That's embezzlement, Gwydion," he said, resignedly.

"With all the money we funnel into the sciences, nobody even batted an eyelash. And besides, it was for the Prime Minister." Gwydion couldn't help but let a small smirk attach itself to his face. "And let it be known, I am proud of my work."

"You always are." Nitesco smiled as Gwydion gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

A loud, melodramatic groan let them know that Austin was coming back from her meeting from Coronam. She shambled into the room, then stopped suddenly, staring.

"Nitesco," she said. "Are you doing okay?"

Nitesco nodded. "I'm fine, all things considered. Thank you for your concern."

Austin let herself relax. "I'm obviously going to be concerned. You got your leg chopped off!" she said, collapsing on the bed opposite Nitesco's. "I love the new one, by the way," she said, pointing at the metal replacement.

Nitesco chuckled. "I'm sure Gwydion is happy to hear that," he said.

Austin looked at Gwydion with awe, then looked down at the ground. "I'm glad at least something went well today," she groaned.

"What's the matter?" Gwydion asked. Austin clenched her fists.

"Dear me, Coronam is such a prick." She sat up and set her elbows on her knees, scoffing. "You know what he said? He had the nerve to say—"

"Easy, Austin. Easy." Nitesco raised his arms in a placating gesture. "I know he can be pompous, but unity is what we need right now, not petty grudges."

"Petty?" She prepared to go off on a rant, but stopped herself. "Fine." She took a deep breath. "Fine. I guess I've got some studying to do, though."

"Okay, well, I need to stretch my legs. Uh, no offense." Gwydion stood up and began making for the door. "I'm going for a walk. You guys can hang out for a while, do whatever you need to do. I'll see if anyone around knows how to play rummy."

"I can play rummy," Austin said, but Gwydion had already left. Being cooped up with Austin and Nitesco for the entire day, especially after the stress of putting an entirely new limb on Nitesco, didn't appeal to him as much as it might have the day before. Now, he just needed to relax.

 _Relax, yes. That's a good idea,_ Gwydion thought _. Maybe just grab a bottle of brandy and sleep. Or play chess with someone other than Nitesco._ _Or maybe…_

As Gwydion walked by an empty room, he heard a woman's voice. He turned into the room to investigate it. More importantly, he heard his name.

"No, the Oligarchs are not a concern. I'm more concerned about Nitesco or Gwydion."

It was a storage room, he saw, though most of the boxes in the room had been ransacked by the troops already. The walls of the room seemed dusty and dry, and there was a hole in one of them. Perfect for eavesdropping. Gwydion pressed his ear to the wall and listened.

"Why?" A man's voice asked. "They have no reason to suspect anything. Vulpix has hidden himself well. I didn't know who he was for five years."

 _Vulpix?_ Gwydion, to his own surprise, didn't feel shocked so much as curious. _Where is he hidden? Could he be the Mask? Or perhaps he isn't in disguise, just operating behind the scenes._

"You barely had the chance to see him. They have had prolonged exposure. How long do you think it'll be until they figure it out?"

 _Figure it out?_ Gwydion thought. _We've seen him, then. Why haven't we recognized him?_

"Hopefully a while. You give them too much credit. They're distracted by the war; they don't have the time to go around looking for ghosts. After the war is over, he'll probably never talk with them again." A pause, and the sound of things being opened. Clinking. "Would you like a glass?"

 _Who am I listening to?_ Gwydion wondered.

If he had properly memorized the layout of this place, then he was directly adjacent to Prince Onyzyon's old office, which had been converted into the command meeting room for the time being. It would follow, then, that Coronam was in there. If he had to wager a guess, the woman was his steward.

"You don't give them enough credit, I think. I wouldn't put it past either of them to bumble into some proof that you or he are not who you say you are. I'd be on my guard if I were you. And yes, I would like a glass. Anything will do."

 _Bumble into some proof?_ Gwydion felt a wave of indignance, but that was, in fact, exactly what he'd done.

"The gravity of the situation does not escape me. But if all we're counting on is those two fumbling their way to success, I think the odds are in our favor."

Gwydion could not suppress a smug grin as he absorbed the irony of the situation. _So much for the odds being in his favor._

"Fair enough, I guess," Opifexa said. "But we should be on our guard."

"I always am," Coronam replied, self-assurance in his voice. "Let's have a toast to our fortune: to our victory, and to our allies' obliviousness."

"I can drink to that."

Gwydion remained at the wall, hoping for more information, but their conversation quickly devolved into small talk about the weather in Monochrome and Cinder's latest escapade in Lancaster. He took the opportunity to leave and resume pacing the manor.

He had learned troubling information. Coronam knew something they didn't. Namely, that he had some sort of secret identity, and that Vulpix was somewhere close by. What was it? Where was Vulpix?

As Gwydion walked by the command room, he poked his head inside to see who was in there. Sure enough, it was Coronam and Opifexa, laughing and sipping their drinks. His suspicions were correct. Gwydion continued pacing, unsure of where to go.

 _The Oligarchs! Opifexa mentioned the Oligarchs. They must know something!_

Gwydion headed down to the first floor, where General Zealander and Colonel Strike were discussing troop numbers. As he approached, they turned to face him.

"Gwydion," Colonel Strike said. "Good to see you. How's Nitesco?"

"He got a new leg. It was a harrowing procedure." Gwydion shuddered, and Strike's mouth fell agape.

"You put a new leg on him?" He said. "Most of my men would've just resigned their commission."

Gwydion smiled, a not-insignificant feeling of pride creeping into him. "He's upstairs if you want him. Go to the command center, then a right, then a left. Last room on the left."

Strike departed to go see Nitesco, leaving Zealander behind. Gwydion examined him closely. He was middle-aged, but his beard concealed most of his face and his hair was combed neat and straight. He didn't look much like Vulpix, but he was about the same age and hair color.

"General Zealander," he said, and the General nodded. "May I talk to you for a second?"

In his eyes, Gwydion didn't see much, but he saw enough. For the most fleeting moment of panic, his opponent gave up the illusion. He saw the familiarity in his expression. It was Vulpix. It had to be.

"What is it?" Vulpix asked. Gwydion pondered. It seemed so obvious now. The mannerisms, the voice, the way he almost seemed ashamed when he was around him and Nitesco. How could he not have noticed it?

"I need troop estimates," Gwydion said flatly. "For the invasion of Lancaster."

"Oh, yes," Vulpix said. "I've just received them from Opifexa. Once my quartermaster copies it down, I'll give you the ledger. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Gwydion smiled, and he moved to leave. "Oh, and Zealander?" Vulpix turned and nodded again. "Say hello to Nitesco. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

A curt smile and a nod. "Very well. I'll do it right now." As Vulpix walked away, Gwydion stroked his chin and pondered. It was a delicate situation, but it would have to wait. Only the Goddesses knew what might happen if he exposed Vulpix now.

 _Patience,_ Gwydion thought. _Patience is key. Soon enough, I'll understand everything._

He walked out the doors of the manor and resumed his walk.


	14. Chapter 14

**February 15, 9 ATC**

 **City of Knightrose, Plantagenet Province, Military Republic of Lancaster**

Austin paced around the campsite, wringing her hands. Most of Lancaster's cities had fallen already, with relative ease. Their instinct was to fall back to the cities and fortify those, but that meant that everywhere else was left undefended. At every major city, they left a couple of legions to starve them out before moving on to the next one.

Knightrose, though, was much more important. The leaders had long since fled to Inferno's court, but taking the capital would still be beneficial. It would provide a staging area for an attack on Pollination territory. More importantly, it would send a message to Inferno and her followers— that their days were numbered.

Her plan to take it, though, stood on a razor's edge. If it worked, the city could be taken almost bloodlessly. If not, it would be a bloodbath, and she wanted as many of her forces available as she could muster for the final push.

As the last rays of the sun hid behind the mountains near the capital, Austin saw Coronam walking up the hill to her campsite, a rare look of contentedness on his face.

"Austin," he said. "It's only you? Where are Nitesco and Gwydion?"

"They left about an hour ago to supervise the attack on the port city. You'll have to deal with me now," she said, a smile coming to her own face. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy. What's up?"

"I'm happy plenty, wiseass," Coronam said, rolling his eyes. "But for your information, I just got confirmation from a messenger that Cinder has made contact. It seems your little scheme might actually work." He paused. "Well, maybe. I don't trust either of them completely, but if this plan works, I just might."

"What about me?" Austin asked. "If my genius plot works, will you finally trust me too?"

Coronam shrugged. "Depends on what mood I'm in." They looked over the hill at the Lancastrian defenses, watching as the soldiers swarmed like bees around the city walls. "We attack at night, correct?"

"You'll know when to attack," Austin said. "Wait about an hour after the sun sets. Then march out of the forests and wait until the gate opens. Don't engage before that unless they initiate it."

"I will take your suggestions into consideration," Coronam said pointedly. He paused again. "Do you really think they'll be able to pull it off?"

"I hope so," Austin said. "I hope so."

* * *

Kazehh and Jelo wandered through the tunnel, ignoring the scurrying of rats and the dripping of cold water from the ceiling. Austin had entrusted them with infiltrating the city. At first, the idea of getting in via a secret tunnel and sabotaging the city had seemed pretty awesome. Now, after about ten minutes of walking in a cramped, dank tunnel, they thought that maybe they shouldn't have volunteered so eagerly after all.

"Damn, how long does this tunnel go on?" Jelo wondered aloud for the fourth time. Kazehh sighed and ducked under another haphazardly placed support beam.

"I'll tell you what I told you the first three times: I don't know." He stumbled a bit trying not to step on a rat and almost his his head on another support beam. "Why is this tunnel so low? I've almost cracked my head open on the ceiling about six times now."

"Well, try not to hit the support beams," Jelo instructed him. "Or clip them with your axe. These don't look too secure, and I'd rather not be buried before I'm dead, thank you very much."

"I'm trying not to," Kazehh grumbled. "Do you see anything up ahead?"

Jelo raised his torch and squinted. The tunnel ended up ahead, and there seemed to be a rope or a ladder or something dangling from the ceiling.

"I think so, yeah. We might have reached the end. It looks like a… ladder, maybe? I hope so."

The pair finally reached the end of the tunnel, finding a ladder propped up against the opposite wall. Above it, they could see cracks of light shining through what appeared to be a trapdoor. Jelo smiled.

"Finally!" He exclaimed. Kazehh breathed a sigh of relief.

"Praise be!" He raised his arms up as far as the ceiling would allow before turning to Jelo. "Ladies first," he said with a childish grin. Jelo rolled his eyes.

"Really going back to your roots there, are you?" He said as he climbed the ladder. Jelo opened the trapdoor above them and looked around. It appeared that they had arrived in the bedroom of a house.

Jelo climbed out and helped Kazehh climb out behind him. As Jelo dusted himself off, Kazehh poked his head into the adjacent room, where two men were sitting at a table drinking beer. One of them stood up to greet them.

"Ah, Kazehh." The man nodded. He took off his cloak and handed it to the other man still seated at the table.

"Go. Tell Coronam that our guests have arrived." As the other man donned the cloak and disappeared down the trapdoor, Jelo and Kazehh advanced into the foyer. It was relatively compact, with only a table, three chairs and a fireplace to decorate it. Still, it was better than the tunnels.

"Greetings, my esteemed friends." The man gave a small bow. "I am the one you know as Cinder. I've been told that you are here to infiltrate the city. Is that correct?"

"It is, my good man!" Kazehh exclaimed, leaning back and placing his hands on his hips in a gallant pose. Jelo rolled his eyes.

"Forgive him," Jelo asked with a hint of exhaustion in his voice, "he's prone to theatrics."

"I told you those acting classes were worth it, Jelo," Kazehh retorted. "Maybe you should've taken a blacksmithing class while you were at it."

"Don't insult my mace!" Jelo demanded, but he quickly exhaled and turned back toward Cinder. "Forgive me. Let's get on to business. I was told you had a distraction in mind?"

"Yes, about that…" Cinder trailed off. "I have a better idea."

"And what would that be?" Jelo asked, unconvinced.

"Well, you see, it appears that my sudden arrival turned a few heads in the city's interior department," Cinder explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "So they sent a pair of guards to inspect the house, see that everything was in order. They came over and… well, long story short, I have two new suits of armor for you. Disguises!"

"Are they still alive?" Kazehh asked.

"Well… maybe?" Cinder pulled a chest out from under the table, opening it up and revealing two suits of armor. "Probably. At least one of them should be. You know what?" He folded his hands together. "They're upstairs. You guys, get changed, and I'll make sure they're still breathing."

Kazehh grumbled and began putting on the armor, with Jelo following suit. "I don't remember him being this unpleasant," he said.

"Neither do I," Jelo said. "But he's our only friend in the city, and he's the man with the plan."

"I wouldn't really call him a friend," Kazehh retorted, trying to squeeze a helmet two sizes too small onto his head. "More like… a colleague."

"Colleague?" Jelo said, tightening the leather straps on his almost comically oversized breastplate. "You make him sound so professional."

"Maybe. But aren't we professionals?" Jelo merely shrugged, and Cinder made his way down the stairs.

"What's the verdict, doc?" Kazehh asked, contempt sneaking into his voice.

"Yeah, and the plan. That'd be nice too," Jelo added, equally contemptuous.

"Well, he's doing just fine, thank you," Cinder said without looking at Kazehh. Kazehh raised an eyebrow.

"Weren't there two of—"

"As for the plan," Cinder said, suddenly raising his voice. "I'm sure you know there's a rather large secret tunnel in the garrison that leads out into the hills behind the city. You two, with your graciously provided disguises, will waltz in through the front gate, locate the secret tunnel, and unbar the gate that's closing it off. If anyone asks you who you are, just say you're conscripts from the civilian populace. Sound good?"

"Sure," both of them said, unconvinced.

"Fantastic!" Cinder said, entirely too enthusiastic. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my visitors left quite a mess upstairs. While I clean that up, you two get on with your sneaky spy stuff."

"Says the 'sneaky spy'," Jelo muttered, but Cinder didn't care enough to respond.

As the two of them walked out into the streets, they watched as night began to fall over the sprawling city. Despite the imminent threat of invasion or siege, the city didn't seem on edge at all. On the contrary, it was almost peaceful as they walked through the streets.

"Man," Kazehh said, staring at the sky. "It's really peaceful here. Nice and quiet. I don't get that often."

"I mean, we are mercenaries," Jelo said. "That's not an occupation that provides much opportunity for quiet."

Kazehh stroked his chin. "I suppose," he conceded. "But I still love my work."

"Your work?" Jelo snorted. "What work? Bashing people's heads in?"

"It's exciting," Kazehh said, as if that explained everything. "And it pays well."

"Both valid points," Jelo conceded. "But haven't you ever wanted to, I don't know, have a more fulfilling career?"

Kazehh paused as they kept walking. "I always wanted to be an artist."

"Oh," Jelo said. "Good luck with that," he added, jokingly condescending.

"Screw you, Jelo," Kazehh laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. They quickly composed themselves again when they realized they were approaching the garrison.

A line of soldiers stood in front of the steps, almost statue-like in their stillness, starting straight ahead. Jelo willed his face to be as placid as the guardsmen's, while Kazehh pulled the visor over his helmet. Both of them gave the guardsmen a nod as they walked by, but received no reaction.

"Hmph," Kazehh grunted. "They're so grouchy in this country."

"All the better, I guess," Jelo said. They stopped in the middle of a large courtyard, with soldiers marching all around, clearly on edge. Jelo stroked his chin.

"Damn, this place is confusing," he said. "Where would the rear entrance be?"

"Well," Kazehh began, lifting the visor of his helmet. "Judging by—"

"Excuse me!" Jelo interrupted him, calling out to a random soldier that had walked nearby. "My friend and I have been assigned to guard duty at the rear entrance, but the commander didn't tell us where that is. Could you point it out to us?"

"Well," the soldier began. "Do you know that—"

"Jelo!" Kazehh interrupted. "There's a map right here." Jelo turned around and saw that Kazehh, true to his word, had found a map of the garrison written on parchment and attached to a wooden post. Judging by the map, the rear entrance was just past the mess hall.

"Yeah, that's what I was going to say," the soldier said, somewhat miffed. "Are you two conscripts?"

"Um, why yes," Jelo said. "Yes, conscripts. Yes."

"Well, I'm glad that at least one of you is observant. It looks like he's the smart one of the pair." The soldier chuckled to himself before wandering off. Jelo scoffed.

"Prick," he muttered, and he beckoned to Kazehh to follow him to the rear entrance. As they began walking off, Kazehh began laughing to himself.

"Did you hear that, Jelo? I'm the smart one." He continued laughing boisterously as Jelo rolled his eyes.

"Smart one, my ass," he whispered. "I'm the one who comes up with all the plans for our contracts."

"I suppose," Kazehh said. "But who's the one that always rescues you when things go wrong?"

"They don't go wrong _that_ often," Jelo hissed. "And it's not like you're making up some grand escape plan when you do, rarely, rescue me. You just go in and swing at whoever's there until they're unconscious or dead and then act like you did something important until _you_ get captured."

"Last I checked, the rescue score is 38-25, my favor," Kazehh added smugly. "I must be doing something right. Maybe if you got a better weapon, you wouldn't be captured as often."

"Hey!" Jelo said. "What did I say about my mace?"

"Don't insult it, even though it looks like a mangled raspberry bush."

"First of all," Jelo spat back. "I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. Second of all, at least I made my weapon. You just stole yours. On a dare."

"Yeah, but I got away with it," Kazehh said. "All thanks to my genius cunning and guile," he added, his smug smile growing ever wider.

Jelo looked down the winding path they were walking. Down a wide set of stone stairs was a large gate hewn from the rock of the large hill behind it. Beyond it, they could see a large tunnel, barred by the gate, and two guards standing by the winch.

"Oh, okay," Jelo huffed. "If you're so smart, I'll let you do the talking here. Go on and convince those two fine fellows to leave without a fight."

"Me?" Kazehh asked, somewhat uncertain. He paused for a second. "Fine. I'll do it."

Kazehh approached the two guards, mentally rehearsing what excuse he would have for getting them to leave. As he approached, the guards turned to face him.

"What do you want, kid?" The older guard asked in a gravelly drawl. Kazehh cleared his throat.

"Uh, the commander has ordered my friend and I to take over this shift. You guys can, uh, take a break, go to the mess hall, whatever you do." He laughed weakly, and the guards gave him a quizzical look.

"But we were just put on this shift," the younger guard asked. "Why would we need to switch?"

"Yeah," the older one asked. "What are you up to, boy?"

"I, um, you see," Kazehh stammered, reaching for his side pouch. "I've got it all right here!"

He slugged the older guard in the groin and body-slammed him into the gate, knocking him out. The younger guard yelped and reached for his weapon.

"Kazehh, what the fuck!" Jelo exclaimed, and he slammed the remaining guard's head into the wall before throwing him to the ground. As Kazehh watched the younger guard slump onto his side, Jelo sighed.

"See, that's what I'm talking about. This is why I'm the smart one."

"Oh, quiet," Kazehh grumbled. "Just open the damn gate."

Jelo began cranking the winch with a smile and watched as the portcullis opened, exposing the path behind it. At the very end, they could see somebody watching from afar.

They sprinted down the tunnel and found a large force of Badaz soldiers waiting at the end. At their head was Austin, smiling proudly.

"So, you did it," she said.

Kazehh nodded. "That we did. Do I get a medal for this?"

"Or payment," Jelo added. "Payment is also nice."

"We'll discuss that later," Austin said, smiling. "Now, we have a city to conquer. Men! Form up and follow me!"

As Austin and her soldiers charged down the tunnel, Kazehh and Jelo remained behind. Kazehh took off his helmet and tossed it to the ground.

"Should we help them?" he asked. Jelo took off his helmet and shook his head.

"Not just yet. Let's get out of these uniforms first."

"An excellent suggestion," Kazehh said. "The best one you've had all night."

"Oh, screw you," Jelo said, unstrapping the breastplate that had been crudely fitted over his tunic. Kazehh did the same, taking off the breastplate and gauntlets and tossing them aside.

"So, our mission's finally over," Kazehh said. "Should we wait this one out or join the fray?"

"Well, Austin's charging into a hostile city," Jelo observed. "Surely she needs all the backup she can get."

"A second good observation," Kazehh noted. "This has probably been the most productive night you've had this year."

"To hell with you," Jelo said. "But I have to agree." He drew his mace and swung it in anticipation. "Shall we?"

"Let's!" Kazehh exclaimed, and they charged down the tunnel after Austin.

* * *

Austin's plan to infiltrate the city had gone swimmingly. The secret passage into the garrison would allow her to open the main gate and subdue most of the defenders without much trouble. If they were reasonable. Unfortunately, she would still have to make her way through the garrison, which would probably not end in a surrender.

She charged through the open gate, her soldiers at her back, into an unfortunate pair of Lancastrian soldiers who had been sent to investigate the opening of the gate. Almost instantly, they were cut down by the soldiers behind Austin, who followed her up the winding stairs and into the garrison's courtyard.

The Lancastrians, who had been mulling about, suddenly panicked as they realized what was happening. League soldiers fell upon them as they struggled to grasp what was going on around them.

As Austin watched what was going on around her, a trio of Lancastrian soldiers charged her, weapons drawn. The first one, obviously a cadet or a conscript, swung wildly and blindly. Austin knocked the spear from his hand with a single swing and kicked him to the ground.

The second one was far more experienced. As the first soldier crawled away in fear, the second one charged Austin with his spear, which Austin barely sidestepped. As she began a counterattack, the third soldier deflected her sword with his.

Austin backed up, sword drawn, and lifted it as the sword-wielding guard charged her again. He struck wildly and aggressively, but he was predictable. Austin lifted her sword to try and parry him, but the spear-wielding guard charged her, slicing her cheek and sending her to the ground.

She crawled backwards and sat up just in time to see the sword-wielding guard going in for the kill. Austin quickly stood and thrust her sword into his stomach before he could strike, then wrenched it out and turned to face her remaining opponent.

The spear guard, now clearly nervous, howled and tried to impale Austin. Austin sidestepped it again and slashed the guard across the throat, ending the fight.

Observing her handiwork, she trust her sword into the air. "Soldiers!" She cried. "Follow me! We must take the main gate!"

What soldiers were not actively taking advantage of the garrison's disarray rallied behind Austin as she charged into the city streets. The streets, to her pleasant surprise, were mostly empty, save for a scant few soldiers. As they came upon the main gate, the soldiers guarding it panicked and fled, leaving the gate totally defenseless.

"Well, that was easy," Austin muttered to herself as her soldiers cranked open the gate. As her men streamed out behind the Lancastrian defenses, some of their men turned and noticed that a full brigade of soldiers had somehow managed to flank them.

"League soldiers!" One of the Lancastrians cried, and the defenders quickly turned around to face their opponents. As they began readying their weapons, Austin and her men prepared for a fight.

"Renorans!" Another Lancastrian yelled. "From the forests!" The defenders quickly turned back around, only to be greeted with the scene of hundreds of Renoran soldiers streaming out from the forests, with Coronam at the front.

The Lancastrians, realizing that they had been outmaneuvered, accepted their defeat. Most of the soldiers tossed their weapons to the ground and raised their arms in surrender.

Coronam, on horseback, rode up to Austin's position and dismounted. As he did so, Austin caught a glimpse of a smile on his face.

"Austin," he said. "I must admit, your crazy scheme paid off."

"That it did," she said, somewhat smugly. "You should give me more credit."

"Maybe," Coronam said, unconvinced. "Maybe. But now, we have bigger concerns. Would someone please fetch me the Lancastrian commander?"

"I'm right here, traitor." A well-dressed officer approached them, flanked by two slightly less well-dressed junior officers. "What do you want with me?"

"We want your surrender," Austin said. "You're now the official representative of the city's forces. All of the officers in the garrison are either dead, will soon be dead, or will soon be our prisoners, making you the highest-ranking soldier in the city. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way."

The officer scoffed. "I will not surrender to some civilian lowborn like you!" Upon saying this, he drew his sword and leveled it at Austin. "No, Knightrose is my home, and I will fight to the bitter end for it!"

Coronam rolled his eyes and stuck his glaive in the officer's stomach. The officer groaned and wheezed before Coronam wrenched his weapon out of him and let him collapse to the ground. Austin frowned.

"Congratulations. You did," Coronam dryly remarked. He turned to the two junior officers.

"Which one of you was his second-in-command?"

"He is," they both said, pointing at each other. Coronam rolled his eyes and grabbed one of them by the collar, dragging him to his knees in front of Austin. Austin leaned down in front of him.

"In light of the fact that we will soon be in control of the city and the fact that my belligerent co-commander has just opened up your predecessor's position, I would like to promote you."

"T-t-thank you," the junior officer stammered. "Y-y-you're very gracious."

"Don't grovel. All I want you to do is go with Coronam here to officially tell the rest of the soldiers in the city to stand down. Sound good?"

"Um, sure?" the officer said. Austin smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good man. Coronam, would you be so kind as to escort our friend here through the city?"

"With pleasure." He grabbed the officer by the shoulder and began walking into the city with his soldiers. Austin sighed and stood up.

"Alright men, get these soldiers tied up and ready for transfer to prison camp." She paused and looked at the officer's corpse. "And somebody please bury him."

As her men began mulling about, Austin stroked her chin. Lancaster was subdued with minimal losses. Now all that was left was to take down Inferno.

From the hill Knightrose sat on, she could see the riverbank in the distance. Just a hop, skip and a jump away from Pollination.

"We're almost there," she said to herself. "Almost."

Victory was in their grasp. She was prepared to do whatever it took to end this war.


	15. Chapter 15

**March 1, 9 ATC**

 **Chanel Castle, Duchy of Leporin, Kingdom of Crosshares**

Inferno sat at the head of a long table, fingers steepled in contemplation. To her left, a Lancastrian officer stood, waiting for everyone to arrive. To her right, Jay rocked back and forth on his heels, scanning the noblemen who came in. Two empty seats remained at the table, the seats closest to Inferno.

"Excuse me, my Queen," High Priest Emlee, the leader of the Yurist Church in Crosshares, spoke up. "If I may ask, what are you waiting for? All the Crossharese and Pollinational lords are here. Why don't we begin?"

"Our guests are not all here," she cryptically replied. Emlee furrowed his brow and slouched in his seat.

"And who, may I ask, are we waiting on?" Duchess Kuma, her Regent, irritatedly asked. As she finished her sentence, the doors to the meeting hall opened. Scion Zissman and Jannis walked in, taking the empty seats nearest to Inferno.

"Ah, the Church," Emlee muttered.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting," Zissman said calmly. Duchess Kuma opened her mouth to retort, but Inferno silenced her with a glare.

"It matters little. This meeting will be short, but it will be important. All of you, pay attention." She turned to the Lancastrian officer standing next to her. "Say your piece."

"Right, well." The officer swallowed. "Lancaster has been overrun by the forces of the Badaz League. About two weeks ago, they took the capital and our largest port city. We believe they are regrouping and preparing to launch an invasion across the inlet."

Murmurs from the table. A few months ago, Inferno's realm had seemed unassailable, and the Badaz League was a far-away threat. With Lancaster taken, Crosshares and Pollination were vulnerable.

"Enough!" Inferno barked, bringing the room back to silence. She beckoned to the Lancastrian to continue.

"I thought Lancaster was supposed to be a nation of soldiers," Jannis said contemptuously. "Please inform us how you failed so spectacularly."

"A few days before the invasion began," the officer said, "Our leader, Marshal Mastaof, was assassinated. We believe it was by agents of-"

"Coronam," Inferno muttered. She grit her teeth. "That underhanded bastard. Please, continue."

"Yes. Mastaof had announced no successor. In the ensuing power vacuum, the League began marching across our lands. With the government paralyzed, regional governors began pulling their soldiers back to their cities. League forces laid siege to the cities and marched across our lands unopposed."

"I must say, you are being very candid," Zissman said. "Don't you have any excuses to make?"

"No," the officer said. "I'm only a captain. If there's going to be punishment, it won't fall on my head."

Zissman chuckled. "I like this one. You should keep him around, Inferno."

"Perhaps," Inferno said. "I can't say the same for his commanders. But I can deal with that later. Jay, please escort him out." Jay nodded and beckoned for the officer to follow as they left the room.

"Now," Inferno said, addressing the assembly. "You may wonder why I have decided to let you hear his testimony. It is to let you know what we are up against." She uncorked a glass container of brandy and poured herself a cup.

"My friends, we must rally against this threat. I know most of you did not consider the League anything more than a far-away nuisance. I myself was guilty of this. But now, we must confront the fact of the matter: the Badaz League is the greatest threat to our regime we have faced thus far.

"Here in Heroa, they have raised mobs and insurrections. In Villainia, they fund rebelling lords in the south. In Rubia, their armies march against our loyalists, hoping to weed out our support there. And in Junipera, they have uprooted our most important ally." She threw back her glass of brandy and quickly refilled it.

"My friends, this rebellion is no longer a nuisance. It is a threat. We have seen their capabilities. They are well-armed and well-manned. They are duplicitous. They are skilled. They are ruthless. And most importantly, they are standing on our doorstep." She threw back her second glass and stood up.

"We must shore up our defenses. You must ready your retinues and fortify your lands. The League will attack with full force in an effort to destroy us, but they will not attack with swords alone. They have spies, informants and assassins everywhere. Be on your guard. Step up counterintelligence. Root out any dissenters or sympathizers you come across. We must fill all the gaps."

"It will be done, my liege," Duchess Kuma said. Murmurs of agreement. A few of the lords near the end of the table began standing to leave.

"I am not finished," Inferno said. She smiled a little as the lords in the back grimaced as they sat back down. "It has come to my attention that there is a growing divide in the people of my realm. Yurism has been the de facto religion in Crosshares for some time, and Pollination is undergoing a polytheistic revival. But there is a third group that is growing rapidly, a group that is not as accepted as Yurists or polytheists."

High Priest Emlee and Duchess Kuma exchanged worried glances. Inferno watched as Jannis opened his mouth to ask a question, but Zissman silenced him with a small wave of his hand.

"The Church of Thorns has grown immensely in our territory, both in Pollination and in Crosshares. We must not allow their people to feel alienated, lest the League take advantage of our division."

"My liege, what are you saying?" Emlee asked warily, and many of the lords worriedly glanced at Jannis and Zissman. Zissman's face contorted into a look of displeasure.

"I am making the Church of Thorns the official state church."

Zissman knit his hands together and shifted his gaze down to the table. The rest of the table instantly erupted in conversation, some confused, some alarmed, some outright defiant.

"My liege, what are you saying?" Emlee stood up, enraged. "You mean to say that you will shun centuries' worth of tradition and religion for this _foreign_ hogwash?" Jannis grit his teeth, but Zissman's cold glare kept him glued to his seat.

"The unity of my people is more important to me than tradition," Inferno calmly explained. "They are not state-mandated, just state-sponsored."

"What's the difference?" Emlee shouted. "The only thing you're doing is handing them more influence! Taking it away from those who have supported our people for generations and handing it to these heretics!"

"How dare you!" Jannis shouted. Zissman contemplated stopping him, but decided against it.

"You sniveling worm," Jannis continued. "The Church has done nothing to hurt you or your countrymen. The only thing we've done is spread our message, and yet here we are greeted with the bigotry and ignorance of lesser men! You are nothing but a floundering parasite!"

"Jannis," Inferno tried to calm him. He paid her no attention.

"You sit here, growing fat on the donations of the faithful, preying on the defenseless and the innocent! You, all of you, have no right to talk down to us, not while you all sit here and stick your bloated hands where they don't belong. If you didn't want your people to convert to our way, you shouldn't have taken advantage of them." Jannis sat down, face still red from his intense sermon. "Hypocrites," he spat out, for good measure.

"Please, excuse my compatriot's outburst," Zissman said, standing to face the assembled lords. "But you must admit, he has a point. The Church has given hope to the people you swept aside. You have no right to look down on us.

"And there is no reason to," he continued, beginning to pace around the table. "The Church brings your nations many things. Not only have we unified a discordant people under our peaceful ways, we provide tithes for the good of the realm. We provide you spies, we provide you soldiers. And if Inferno sponsors our organization, we can provide you an obedient populace, free of the religious strife that has afflicted your realms for centuries. Or would you shun that on tradition as well?"

High Priest Emlee, seeing he was beat, grimaced and silently sat down. Zissman smiled, chuckled quietly, and returned to his seat.

"Well spoken, Scion," Inferno said, a rare hint of genuine gratitude entering her voice. "They have valid points. We cannot risk the League capitalizing on religious strife, especially not when we are so vulnerable. This will not be disputed. This will not be overridden. I have already made up my mind."

"Will the populace be told?" Duchess Kuma asked.

"Of course they will be told," Inferno scoffed, condescension in her voice. "I will do it tomorrow at noon. The people of the nearby city are mostly Church adherents. I am sure that this announcement will be far less divisive than you think." She leaned back in her chair and waved them away. "You are dismissed. If you have any questions, comments or concerns…" Inferno looked up, seeing that many of her subordinates had raised their hands. "You may see me tomorrow morning."

The lords got up and began chatting quietly, some casting accusative or suspicious glances at Jannis and Zissman. The Church representatives merely walked off in a dignified manner, disappearing into a side hallway that led to their chambers. Inferno listened as the lords talked amongst themselves.

"She's gone too far. This will make them more ambitious."

"This is treasonous! How could she give them what is our responsibility?"

"I don't know. The Church could make a useful ally… or a deadly enemy. I'm glad they're on our side."

Inferno sighed and poured yet another glass of brandy. As the lords finally dispersed, Jay returned, looking grim.

"I'm guessing it didn't go well," he said, pulling up a chair. Inferno laughed mirthlessly.

"You could say that." She threw back her glass. "But I had to do something. It was a gamble I needed to take."

"Do you think it will work?" Jay asked, doubt in his voice. Inferno soured at the sound of it.

"Not immediately, but in time. It will be a gradual process. The Church is a useful tool, Jay, but the bigger a sword, the harder it is to swing. We must blunt their edge a little."

"Do you think they realize what you're doing?"

Inferno sighed and scratched her cheek. "I certainly hope not. But we have bigger concerns right now."

Jay stroked his chin, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe," he said, trailing off. "Maybe."

* * *

Zissman sat down in his office chair and furrowed his brow. The meeting was like any other meeting with Inferno's vassals: loud and filled with hostility and quite a few pointless arguments. But her declaration worried him.

By the way Jannis was pacing, Zissman knew he was just as concerned. Jannis only paced when he was worried, and the brisk speed he was doing it at only worried Zissman more.

"Sit down, Jannis," he calmly commanded. Jannis sighed and took a seat, fiddling his hands as he looked out the window.

"Why?" Jannis asked. Zissman knit his fingers. That was the question, wasn't it? Why? They knew Inferno, for all her faults, was keenly aware of the dynamics of power. She must have known that the Church was her enemy just as much as it was her ally.

What was she planning?

Zissman stroked his beard. "She must know something we don't. We must be missing something."

Jannis leaned back in his chair and exhaled. "Maybe we aren't. Crosshares and Pollination have always butted heads. Maybe she did really intend to unite them in some way."

"Not with us, she wouldn't. The last thing she wants is to increase our power. So why is she?" Zissman stood and rubbed his hands together. "What does she gain from this?"

"Well, she's technically not mandating us," Jannis observed. "Just… sponsoring us, I think she said?"

"Sponsoring, sponsoring," Zissman chanted. "Language is important. What does it imply?" After a few seconds of silence, a smile crept over his face, and he began laughing bitterly. His laughter increased in volume, enough to alarm Jannis.

"Um, are you alright?" He asked. After a few seconds, Zissman calmed down and nodded.

"Oh, I get it now. It's a scheme fit for us. I'm disappointed I didn't realize it sooner." Zissman sat back down, leaving Jannis no less confused than before.

"She's legitimizing us," Jannis said, a sudden clarity appearing in his expression.

"Exactly. _She's_ legitimizing us. Not anyone else. It's subtle, but it's strong. Inferno makes it look like she's the superior, like she's the one in command."

"And where does she go from here?" Jannis asked, drumming his fingers on the window sill.

"Over time, she'll probably try to absorb us into the power structure. If it looks to our supporters that she's the superior and we the inferior, then it may as well be true."

Zissman and Jannis sat in silence, contemplating their options.

"What do we do now?" Jannis asked. "We can't let her domineer us. But how do we remove her without losing our influence over the Subreddit?"

"We must move quickly," Zissman answered. "Inferno has to die; there is no way to outmaneuver her without eliminating her entirely. She has become too much of a nuisance." Zissman unrolled a map of Inferno's dominions and studied it for a bit.

"Jannis, look. Coronam and Austin will likely attack from Lancaster's ports. Inferno is going to stay at this fortress for a few more weeks, attending to her schemes and whatnot. It matters little." He traced a path with his finger from the shores across from Lancaster to a large patch of forests, and through the forests to the location of Castle Chanel. "This path is mostly inhabited by our followers, is it not?"

"I believe so," Jannis said. "But they're only civilians, not our militias."

"It doesn't matter. Tell them to send the local soldiers on a goose chase looking for League soldiers. Keep this path clear. If they encounter no resistance, Inferno can be eliminated within three weeks."

"That I can do," Jannis said. "But what happens afterward? With Inferno gone, our leverage disappears."

"We can fix that," Zissman mused. "It will take work, but I'm certain we can do it. Perhaps we can put a distant relative on the throne and puppet him? But we'd still have to contend with the other lords of the realm…" He stroked his beard, strategizing.

"What if we could bypass that?" Jannis asked. "Finding a successor takes research, and propping one up takes influence with the other lords we don't have. It's a precarious position, but I have an idea." Zissman nodded to him to continue.

"We could always… eliminate our rival lords. Not all of them dislike us. I'm sure some of the more opportunistic, or at least less traditionalistic ones realize that we could be a valuable ally. With their deceased queen's backing, we have legitimacy. With the legitimacy provided to us, we could set up a transition government after, ahem, 'League assassins' eliminate the rest of the lords." A wry grin crossed his face, and they both enjoyed the irony of it.

Zissman stroked his chin. "An excellent plan, Jannis. There's hope for you yet." He laughed lightly and patted Jannis on the shoulder. "That sounds like it could work. But for now, we must play the servant. Keep your pride in check and we will make it through intact."

Zissman opened a small cabinet on his bookshelf and produced a plate of bread, vegetables and cooked fish, setting it down on the table. Jannis pulled his chair closer to the table as Zissman found his utensils.

"Very well," Jannis grumbled. "I'll suffer the indignities as long as I get to gloat to Inferno before we leave her to the dogs." He grabbed a loaf of bread as Zissman poured them both a cup of beer.

"If you can find the time to, be my guest." Zissman lifted his glass. "A toast to the Goddess: thanksgiving for this meal, for our patience, and for Inferno's most gracious blessing."

"Indeed," Jannis said, and they both took a gulp.

Zissman chuckled to himself. To think that Inferno's bid for power would hand them the opportunity to rid themselves of her forever! He contemplated the delicious irony, and then finished his drink.

* * *

 **March 2, 9 ATC**

 **City of Egestas, Duchy of Leporin, Kingdom of Crosshares**

From a side balcony of the mayoral palace, Faker watched with amusement as the Crossharese citizens swarmed about in the plaza, excitedly chattering about what Inferno's announcement would be. The antics of the peasantry always amused him.

He heard someone walking behind him. Anti appeared, dressed in a plain black jacket, and took a seat next to him.

"Anti," Faker said. "So kind of you to join me. We've had so few opportunities to talk."

"I can't stay cooped up in my quarters forever," Anti said, "no matter how many tables and graphs I need to look over. Foodstuffs, finances, weaponry. Everything has its price, and Inferno's seen fit to saddle me with the state expenditures."

"I can send for one of my aides to pick up the slack," Faker offered. Anti smiled and waved him off.

"Tempting. But it's only temporary, until her steward gets better. He's ill with pneumonia."

"Pneumonia!" Faker exclaimed. "That's a pity. I hope he gets better." He paused. "Illness is such a mundane way to go. I hope I don't die that way."

"Well, with how the war is going, you may not have to," Anti remarked. "Now, shh. Inferno's about to start her speech."

Inferno had walked out onto the mayoral palace's balcony, arms outstretched in warm greeting, and had been met by the cheers of the peasants below. Faker had to admit, for such an unpleasant woman she knew how to work a crowd.

Scion Zissman and Jannis followed her out onto the balcony, taking a position on either side of her. Anti cocked her head, while Faker tapped his fingers restlessly.

"So it's true, then," he muttered. Anti gave him a quizzical look.

"What's true?" She asked.

"I've heard rumors that Inferno plans to make the Church a state-sponsored organization. If the Church is up there and not over here with us, then perhaps it's true." Anti and Faker watched Inferno as she went through her long-winded, subtly self-aggrandizing lead-in. The punch would be arriving soon.

"Tell me, what religion is dominant in this province?" Anti asked. Faker chewed his nails a bit.

"It used to be Yurism, but this place was one of the first major cities to adopt the Church. Most of its civilians are converts." He paused. "I don't know much about their religion, but they're certainly good at what they do."

"Perhaps there's some merit to it, then," Anti remarked. She marveled at the citizens, how they hung on every word. They knew what was coming, and they were buzzing with excitement. What did this sect have that others didn't?

Faker merely laughed. "Oh, don't get sentimental. It's all hodgepodge. Yurism, Straightism, Yaoism, the Church. All the same message, the same treatment, but with different packaging. The core is the same."

"Yes," Anti said, assuring herself. "I'm only offering an explanation. Understanding is the first step of preparation."

Faker nodded absentmindedly, watching Inferno. He pointed at her. "Now watch, Anti. I think she's getting to the good part."

"—and it is my privilege to announce that the Church of Thorns has been officially sponsored in the Kingdoms of Crosshares and Pollination!"

The crowd erupted in raucous cheers. Faker steepled his fingers and chuckled softly.

"Look at them," he said, gesturing to the jubilant throngs. "They're so excited. Now they can finally officially acknowledge their faith."

"I'd be happy too, if I were them," Anti said. Faker pointed at them again.

"But look at their eyes, Anti. The Church is their leader, but who is their hero? Inferno. Inferno, the gracious queen who granted them religious freedom. The pleasant lady who ventured all the way out to their little city to tell them first. The generous woman who _let_ the Church operate freely." He tapped the side of his head.

"How do you know these things?" Anti asked. Faker smiled again, some maliciousness behind it.

"I am a ruler. It is my job to know these things." He paused. "Look, Zissman is going to speak."

Zissman had taken his place at the pulpit, and Inferno had stepped to the side. Anti noticed how she had not stepped back to where Zissman was standing, but pointedly stood beside him. She studied her, and she studied Zissman.

"Look at them," Anti directed, and Faker turned from the crowds to the leaders. "Look at where she stands. Next to him, not behind him. She wants them to know she is his equal, if not better."

"And Zissman. Look at his hands. Whenever he gestures with his left—" Zissman handily did so at that moment, extending an open hand to the people. "He keeps his hand open. But when he lifts his right hand, the hand at Inferno's side, it balls into a fist."

"And Jannis." Anti pointed at Jannis, watching as Faker scrutinized him along with her. "Watch how suspiciously he looks at her! And how concernedly he looks at his master. There has been a split between the Church and Inferno."

"Impressive," Faker remarked.

"It's my job to know these things," Anti echoed. Faker chuckled.

"As witty as you are observant. I wish I had ten of you working for me." He paused, and his expression darkened. "But what does this mean for us?"

Anti shrugged and crossed her arms worriedly. "I don't know. Likely some plotting. Likely a struggle. But when is a matter of their patience. Inferno seeks to control the Church. The Church likely wants her gone. We'd best be prepared."

"Hmm." Faker chewed his nails some more as he contemplated this. "Anti, what do you say to a pact?"

"A pact?" Anti asked. "You should know that I, of all people, do not enter contracts lightly."

"Don't think of this as a contract. Think of this as a… mutual agreement. The Church is ambitious, Anti, but so is Inferno. Sooner or later, we may find ourselves in a predicament much like this."

"And what do you propose?"

Faker stroked his chin. "I propose an alliance, for lack of a better word. If either one of them moves against each other, we stay neutral. Together. If they move against us, they we call on each other for support." He extended a gloved hand. "Sound good?"

Anti looked at his hand. Faker certainly wasn't trustworthy, but he was much more straightforward than the Church or Inferno. And with friends like those, any allies were better than none.

She looked over at Inferno and Zissman. Zissman had finished talking, and Inferno had taken his hand and lifted it, to the immense excitement of the crowds. Both of them cast a glance at where Anti and Faker were sitting before returning to the crowd.

"All right," she said uneasily, taking his hand. "I agree."

"Fantastic!" Faker exclaimed, and he shook her hand. As he did, the crowds again erupted in cheers, for their savior and their leader both.


	16. Chapter 16

**September 8, 4 BTC**

 **Crown Castle, Duchy of the Crownlands, Kingdom of Night's Watch**

When his uncle returned from his diplomatic errand, Celtic II was thankful, if nothing else. Neither Yokei nor any of his father's lieutenants had remained behind. The absence of Yokei and most of his other trainers had left his schedule open. Boredom had quickly overrun the freedom of leisure time, and he was glad to have somebody back.

He sat next to King Celtic in the banquet hall, hands folded politely in his lap, observing his father's compatriots. Maker and Yukon were engaged in a fierce debate on some long-dead philosopher, Jokey was quietly discussing politics with Greatness, and Vulpix was laughing and joking with Inferno as Inferno's bodyguard looked on suspiciously. Celtic looked over to his uncle, who gave him a small smile.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked his nephew. Celtic II took a bite of beef and nodded.

"I am. It's good to have you back, uncle." They both sipped their drinks. "I am curious why you were gone so long."

At this, Celtic's expression darkened. He took another swallow of his drink and leaned closer to his nephew.

"Nephew, the leaders of this Subreddit are fools. They have no vision. They have no order. I sought to… remedy that."

"How?" Celtic II asked, though he suspected he wouldn't get an answer.

"You see," Celtic began, "there is no ruler who can properly command when his people do not obey. The kings, presbyters, generals, presidents, whatever else there may be. They rule in fear of the people. They are supported, because the people pay their taxes. They are sheltered, because the people build their homes. They are protected, because the people choose to serve in their armies. Do you see the problem?"

Celtic II slowly nodded. "They rely on the people."

"Exactly!" Celtic exclaimed. "They rely on the people. They are subservient to the people. He provides them direction, but when he alienates enough, they rebel. They turn against him. They replace him. How inefficient, how stupid, to live in fear of the people you are supposed to rule!"

"And what do you suggest?" Celtic II asked, scooping some lentils onto his plate.

"Obedience. Loyalty. Fanaticism." Celtic steepled his fingers. "The people should not serve their king because they are afraid of punishment, but because they want to. Because they need to. The king is the shepherd of his realm; his word should be absolute. I envision a Subreddit where the people are fanatically loyal to one ruler, not out of fear, but out of love. Only then can there be order again."

"And who do you believe should lead this new Subreddit?" Celtic II asked.

Celtic shrugged. "I say it should be… someone with vision. Hmm?" He smiled cruelly. Celtic II made an uneasy smile back and returned to his food.

"I just remembered I have some lessons to complete for Master Hetterman. Do you mind if I leave?"

Celtic frowned and shrugged. "Very well. I'll tell Greatness to leave you some beef."

"No promises," Greatness said, and the rest of them laughed. Celtic II was already out the door.

He plodded through the castle hallways until he came out in the small courtyard that he and Yokei used for training. Sure enough, the old man was there, swinging at a wooden dummy with a dull practice sword.

"Yokei." Celtic II announced his presence, and Yokei stopped. He seemed slouched, haggard, and defeated.

"Junior," he said dully. "Aren't you supposed to be in the banquet hall?"

"My uncle let me leave early." He walked over to Yokei and they both took a seat on the ground.

"Did you talk to him?" Yokei asked. Celtic II frowned.

"Yes. He delivered a speech on his vision for a better Subreddit. On how we should all be loyal to our betters in the name of order."

"Order, hm?" Yokei chuckled darkly. A moment of silence passed between them.

"He declared war, didn't he?" Celtic II asked. Again, Yokei laughed.

"There was no declaration. He invaded. Without warning or provocation. He simply arrived and imparted his will." He paused, his eyes in a faraway place. "There were rivers of blood."

"Civilians?" Celtic II asked. Yokei nodded.

"There was so much death. All in the name of order." He spat out the words with disgust. "Do you know what I saw, Junior? I saw droves of soldiers and civilians alike choking on their own blood in clouds of Maker's chemicals. I saw them tear each other apart like animals under its influence. I watched as our soldiers burned down their homes. I looked on as our men slaughtered them in the streets. And you know who was as the front of it all?"

Celtic II didn't have to answer. They both knew. Celtic I, King of Night's Watch, who had spent every day for the last seven years preparing for this moment. And now he had done it. He had doomed them all.

"You understand why I must leave."

Celtic II jerked his head to face Yokei. His teacher stared at the ground, his face dreary with age that Celtic II didn't know he had. He wanted to say something, to convince him to stay, but he knew he couldn't.

"Where will you go?" He asked instead.

"I came from beyond the North Mountains. I am an Outlander. It was once my home, and my home it will be again." He smiled sadly at Celtic II. "I'll miss you."

"Oh, Yokei." Celtic II drew him into a hug. "I'll miss you too."

And as he sat there, hugging the man who had taught him more than the rest of his teachers combined, he resolved never to become the same as his uncle. If he did, he told himself, then he deserved whatever was coming to him now.

* * *

 **March 1, 9 ATC**

 **City of Edmund, Plantagenet Province, Military Republic of Lancaster**

Coronam stared out at the Heretical Inlet, watching a few small fishing vessels dart to and fro in the wide, wide waters of the rivers. Some twenty miles across, he could see the undefended shores of Crosshares, practically begging to be invaded. He smiled, eager to end this once and for all, and maybe even stop at Night's Watch along the way.

"My liege," Opifexa said. She appeared at his side. She was the only one capable of sneaking up on Coronam. Not that he minded that; she was the only person he really trusted.

"Opifexa," he responded quietly. They stared at the river that looked peaceful despite the war. Coronam frowned.

"Do you ever wonder what it'd be like?" he began. Opifexa looked at him quizzically. "If we just… left one day? Handed someone else a crown and found a nice plot of land to call our own? You, me, Cinder, all sitting around on a farm somewhere?"

"Well, I imagine it'd be pretty boring," she said, and they both laughed softly. The river water brushed against Coronam's boots. How long had it been since he had heard that sound, the sound of water on the riverbank?

"I'm guessing you were sent to fetch me for the war room," Coronam said. Opifexa smiled gently.

"They wanted you five minutes ago," she said. "But it's nice out here. They can wait."

"A tempting offer," Coronam said. "But they can't. Perhaps another time."

"Perhaps," Opifexa mused, and she led him back to the war room.

The room was surprisingly quiet by the time they returned. Zealander, Nitesco, Gwydion, and Austin were sitting around the round table, drumming their fingers impatiently.

"Coronam," Nitesco said. "You're late."

"My apologies," Coronam responded with fake contrition. Austin raised an eyebrow.

"Should I be worried about you two?" she asked, pointing at him and Opifexa.

"Should I be worried about you two?" Coronam returned in kind, pointing at her and Nitesco. Nitesco and Austin exchanged an awkward glance while Opifexa smirked.

"Enough chatter," Gwydion interjected. "We have a war to plan."

"Exactly right," Coronam said. "Exactly right. Now, I believe I was summoned to discuss the invasion?"

"Correct," Zealander said. "The problem won't be a matter of resources; we have all the men, horses, armaments and supplies we need. The problem is transportation. We don't have enough ships to transport everything to Inferno's territory. Some must be left behind."

"Hmm," Austin said, stroking her chin. "What is the maximum number of soldiers we can accomodate?"

"Well, we have thirty-nine ships at our disposal," Gwydion said. "I've done some calculations already. Assuming we fill up twenty-five with soldiers and ten with supplies, we still have four ships for cavalry, cannons or catapults. We won't be able to transport enough trebuchets to make the hassle worthwhile."

Nitesco scratched the side of his head. "Well," he said. "Do we have any logistics on Inferno's troops?"

"I visited Crosshares some time ago," Zealander said. "They are very conservative with resources over there. It's unlikely that they'll use very many cannons, given the high cost of construction. I say we capitalize on that."

"But what of cavalry?" Austin asked. "If they have cavalry, they have an advantage in mobility."

"The ratio of horses to men with our ships isn't enough to make it worth transporting cavalry," Coronam said. "I've specially trained some regiments in anti-cavalry tactics. We can send them over on the ships and free the remaining four from having to transport horses."

"Alright," Nitesco quietly spoke. "I say we dedicate two for cannons, two for catapults, to minimize the costs of use. Does this sound good?"

Everyone nodded.

"Fantastic. One more thing: we will have to leave some troops behind. How should we decide which legions should stay?"

"I've done more research on that," Gwydion said, producing some papers. "We'll take six legions of Gunnian troops, six Arkosian, six Renoran, and six from the smaller nations. We'll give the Mask's mercenaries the last spot as a reserve. The rest will stay behind."

"But what of the commanders here?" Opifexa spoke up. "Zealander, can one of your Oligarchs remain?"

"Unfortunately not," Zealander said. "They've returned to Arkos. Inferno launched another assault, and they've taken it upon themselves to defend my nation from it." He shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. Just have one of the junior officers take command."

"Junior officers?" Coronam interjected. He scoffed. "Shouldn't we get someone more competent?"

"Oh, don't get such a sour face, my friend. You'll end up looking like your uncle if you do." He, Opifexa and Coronam laughed grimly. Gwydion squinted and looked over at Austin and Nitesco. They seemed not to notice.

"Contramundi will arrive in two days with some reinforcements. He can take command then," Austin suggested. Coronam shrugged.

"He will do. Now, are we adjourned?" The rest of them nodded and stood, each going their separate ways.

As Gwydion ambled behind Nitesco and Austin, he stroked his chin. Zealander was Vulpix, that was for sure. But who was Coronam? How did Vulpix know him? What did Opifexa have to do with anything? Who was Coronam's uncle? Questions swirled in his head, and his hand began twitching violently in excitement.

"Gwydion?" Nitesco's voice cut through the noise in his head. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled uncertainly. "I'm just trying to figure something out."

"Well, you do that," Nitesco said, concerned. "Tell us if it's important. I'll be with Austin in the map room."

"Of course," Gwydion replied, his mind already somewhere else. He opened the door to his quarters, taking a seat on the rusty cot he slept on. First things first: who was Coronam really?

Gwydion laid on his back and stared at the ceiling for about ten minutes. It had to be someone important. If Vulpix knew him and his uncle, he must have been pretty close to them both. Perhaps one of Arkos' old leaders? It would explain how he ended up in Renora; the border was not far.

But that didn't work. Coronam didn't have the accent of a Juniperan; it was close, but a bit too loose. A Heroan, perhaps, but one near the inlet.

Suddenly, it clicked. Who else did he know that had the boisterous, gritty voice of Coronam? The stocky figure, the thick beard, the blunt determination. Even the accent should have tipped him off.

Gwydion stood up and grabbed his knapsack from under the cot, pulling out a feather, some ink and the papers in it. He began furiously scribbling his thought process onto an empty sheet, and as soon as he was done, he ran down to the map room with the fistful of papers in his hand.

When he arrived in the map room, Austin and Nitesco were drinking mead and laughing with Coronam and Vulpix. Gwydion stood uncomfortably in the doorway until Austin noticed him.

"Gwydion," she said, her face darkening as she noticed how distressed he seemed to be. She set down her glass. "Is there a problem?"

Coronam glanced at the papers Gwydion clenched in his hand. "What are those papers, my friend?"

"These papers," Gwydion said, laying them on the table in front of Austin and Nitesco, "record every secret conversation you, Opifexa, Cinder or our friend 'Zealander' here have had in the last few months. I knew something was going on, but I didn't know what."

"What are you saying, Gwydion?" Vulpix stood from his chair uneasily, hand hovering above his sword's hilt.

"What I'm saying is that I know that none of Coronam's entourage is who they seem." He pointed at Vulpix. "You, 'Zealander.' Do you still think about the crimes you committed with Celtic during his uprising? About the hand you had in King Inferno's death?"

Austin stood up, attempting to meet a suddenly ashamed Zealander's gaze.

"Is it true?" she wondered. "Are you Vulpix?"

Before he had a chance to respond, Coronam stepped in front of him and crossed his arms threateningly. "And who do you think you are?" he asked.

"You're one to talk, 'my friend,'" Gwydion spat. "You being the nephew of-"

"Celtic." Nitesco stared at Gwydion's chickenscratch on the newest piece of paper. He stared at the paper for a few more seconds, then swept his gaze over Vulpix and onto Coronam. "You are the kin of the mad king?"

Coronam glanced around the room. Austin, Nitesco and Gwydion were glaring at him, taking aggressive stances. He looked to Vulpix, who had taken a sudden interest in the carpet beneath him.

"They know, Junior," he mumbled guiltily. "Let's stop pretending."

Coronam looked at him, then at Austin, Nitesco, and Gwydion. He sighed.

"Fine," Coronam said, defeated. "You got me."

"It's true?" Austin asked, still in disbelief. Coronam nodded sadly.

"Yes. As much as I wish it wasn't, it is."

"Why did you hide this from us?" Gwydion asked, clutching his left hand in his right. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Coronam scoffed, his shame giving way to apprehension. "Do you realize what that would do to me?" he asked. "Can you imagine the fallout? My people, learning their king is the nephew of the man who conquered their land and killed their queen? Not to mention the lords of the Subreddit who were imprisoned, vassalized, shamed or defeated by Celtic." He shook his head. "I couldn't. I couldn't risk not having their trust."

"But now you have lost ours," Austin said apprehensively. "Your uncle destroyed families, countries, regions! And you!" she exclaimed, pointing at Vulpix. "You went along with it!"

"You think I don't regret that?" Vulpix lashed back. "You think I don't have nightmares about what I did? I was blinded by my ardor. It consumed me. I will not make the same mistake again."

"You should have died with the rest of Celtic's Council!" Austin exclaimed.

"Easy, Austin," Nitesco advised. Both Austin and Vulpix ignored him.

"I would gladly have died," Vulpix said through gritted teeth. "But it was Austin Rufus who spared me. He gave me a second chance." Vulpix squinted at her, scrutinizing her face and her reaction upon hearing Austin's name. "I've noticed the resemblance, young lady. We aren't the only ones with secrets."

"Enough!" Nitesco exclaimed. "That's enough. Vulpix, Coronam, if that even is your real name, stay here. I'll fetch an escort to take you to your rooms."

"And what will be done with us?" Coronam asked coldly. Nitesco shook his head.

"We shall see. In the meantime, don't try escaping. I'm willing to bet your soldiers won't be too happy if I were to reveal your true identities to them." As Gwydion beckoned for some soldiers to escort Vulpix and Coronam away.

As they left, Austin approached Nitesco, shaking her head. "What will we do with them?" she asked.

Nitesco frowned. "I don't know," he admitted. "Gwydion, what do you think?"

Gwydion massaged his sore hand and paced back and forth. "I just can't believe it. I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "They were right here, right under our noses this whole time, and I only just now realized that the man we've been relying on most is Celtic's heir. I feel like a fool!"

"Looking back, it explains a lot," Nitesco said.

"Yeah, like Zealander stuttering back at the Diet," Austin agreed. "And the meaning of Coronam's name."

Gwydion stopped and looked up. "His name?"

"Yeah," she said. "'Coronam' is Latin. It means 'Crown.'"

Gwydion's face turned bright red. "Of course. Of fucking course it does!" He slammed his right hand on the table. "Here I was after Greatness thinking, 'oh, no way anyone would try the Latin name thing again.' And then this man has the audacity to call himself 'crown' and nobody bats an eye!"

"You really didn't know?" Austin asked.

Gwydion threw his hands in the air. "I thought it was just another royal name! They all have weird names. Zentics, Contramundi, 'Jillian,' they all sound like nonsense. What's next, you're going to tell me that 'Cinder' is Latin for Jokey, or 'Opifexa' is Latin for—"

"Settle down, man!" Nitesco pleaded. "Let's just focus on this for now. We should decide what to do with this information."

Austin crossed her arms. "I didn't fight in the war like you two, but I saw firsthand what Celtic was responsible for. And I know what he did to my father and to both of you. I have some ideas of what I'd like to do with his kin."

"I have some thoughts as well," Nitesco said. "And I suspect that we may not be of the same mind on this."

Gwydion pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm out of thoughts. I've used up all of my thoughts for today. If you two can figure out a solution, I'm on board."

Nitesco and Austin locked eyes. After some debate, they came to an agreement and decided Coronam's fate.

* * *

Coronam did not sleep that night. He tossed and turned in his bed, desperately trying to fall asleep, but could not. Old memories and visions swam through his head, never allowing him to drift off, keeping him awake until the morning hours. At last, someone knocked on his door.

The door opened. "Coronam," Nitesco said, keeping his voice neutral. "It's time."

"So it seems," he glumly muttered. Nitesco beckoned for Coronam to follow, and they wordlessly ambled through the command center until they arrived in a small, circular garden. A few of Nitesco's most trusted guards stood around the circle, with their backs to the statues and foliage that provided them privacy.

Nitesco took a seat next to an arbor entwined with roses. Coronam looked around questioningly, noting nobody important save for Nitesco. His face twitched in anticipation.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Why have you brought me here? Are you going to kill me?"

"That has yet to be decided," Nitesco answered, a dark intonation in his voice. "In the meantime, I fear that us commanders have fallen out of practice. I decided that we should have a sparring match to sharpen our skills before we move on Crosshares. While we're at it, we can have a conversation. Ask you a few questions, perhaps. How does that sound?"

Coronam nodded and looked around for his opponent. "Very well. It's not like I have another option." He paused. "Who will I be fighting? Gwydion? You?"

"As much as Gwydion might like to, he's elsewhere, interviewing Vulpix. Besides, he's not much of a fighter anyways."

"And what about you?"

Nitesco shook his head. "No. I've made my peace with your bloodline. I'll have no conflict between us."

"Then who will I fight?" Coronam impatiently asked. Nitesco pointed behind Coronam, and Coronam turned to see that Austin, dressed in sparring clothes, had appeared behind him.

"Austin?" Coronam asked. "Why her?"

"I thought it was fitting," Austin said. "It was my suggestion. After all, it was Celtic who fought my father to the death."

A look of surprise appeared on Coronam's face, much to Austin's amusement. "So you _are_ Austin Rufus' daughter," he said.

"Come on," Nitesco chided, "you didn't think the name was a coincidence, did you? Not to mention the resemblance."

"I had my suspicions," Coronam said. "But I didn't want to say anything. I happen to look a lot like a dead man too." His comment elicited the smallest glare from Austin, who readied her fighting stance.

"Enough posturing," Austin said. "Let's get down to it."

"Very well." Coronam smiled and readied a fighting stance of his own. "Ask away."

Austin began the match with a roundhouse kick aimed at Coronam's head. Expecting a more frontal assault, Coronam was caught off-guard and just barely manage to duck under it. Austin did not seize the opportunity for a follow-up.

"Bold opener," Coronam commented, standing upright.

"I don't like to hold back," Austin said.

"Is that right?" Coronam asked. In lieu of an answer, Austin pressed forward with her own question.

"They said you were the nephew of King Celtic," she said, eyeing Coronam's shins. "How close were you to him?"

Coronam grit his teeth. Should he downplay Celtic's importance? Should he tell the truth? On the one hand, he could minimize his guilt. On the other hand, trust was the bond of alliance, was it not?

He decided to tell the truth.

"He was my adoptive father," Coronam explained, blocking a few quick jabs from Austin. "My father, his younger brother, was killed a few months before I was born in the Third Shipping War. My mother died a few days after I was born from health complications. Celtic took me in, but he made no attempt to hide that he was not my real father."

"Is Coronam your real name?" she asked. Austin went for a strike to Coronam's eye, which was deflected easily.

"No. My uncle named me Celtic II." He paused. "Self-absorbed bastard. I hated that. Being called 'Junior' by all his vassals and allies was annoying to no end."

"His allies. Let's talk about those." Austin punctuated her statement with a wild flurry of punches, which Coronam blocked with some effort. "Tell me, what was your relation to them?"

"They were my teachers," he said. "Celtic assigned them as my mentors. He personally taught me much, but his lieutenants taught me the more niche things. Yukon taught me history and culture, Greatness taught me strategy, Vulpix taught me diplomacy and negotiation. They were my friends." He shook his head. While he was distracted, Austin threw another jab that narrowly missed, bringing him back to the present moment.

"Keep talking," Austin said, pushing with repeated strikes to the body. "The mass murderers were your good friends?"

Coronam grit his teeth and steadily blocked her punches. "It wasn't until the war began that I saw them for who they truly were. Zealots and killers, chasing after a fantasy of unity. But they were steadfast in their beliefs. Celtic gave them purpose, he gave them a goal. And so they were undyingly loyal to him to the end."

"Clearly not 'undying,'" Austin remarked, "else Vulpix wouldn't be here." She attempted a kick and Coronam easily dodged.

"Vulpix was the only one of them who had a lick of sense!" Coronam said, suddenly temperamental. "He was the only one with a conscience. The only one I could talk to with respect after Yokei left."

"Yokei?" Austin asked, backing off momentarily to catch her breath. "And who was that?"

"My combat trainer," Coronam said, a sudden pang of regret entering into his voice. "Like a second father to me. He taught me more than combat or finances or history like the rest of them did. He taught me right and wrong."

Austin shook her arms to loosen up. "I get the feeling his ideas of 'right and wrong' were skewed, given the company he kept."

"Don't be so quick to assume," Coronam growled, raising his fists and closing in. "Yokei was there when Celtic first invaded at Bumblebee. He saw what Celtic did there, to civilians and soldiers alike. It ruined him. He left for the Northlands and never returned."

Coronam threw a heavy-handed punch at Austin, the first attack he had thrown since the fight began. She sidestepped it and backpedaled away from his follow-up uppercut.

"Did you love Celtic?" she asked. The simplicity of the question threw him off long enough for her to land a solid right hook. Coronam shook it off and blocked her next strike.

"When I was a child, yes. I loved him like I would love my own father. But then he started a war," he said, punctuating "war" with a punch that missed its mark. "He became colder. More dour. More angry." Coronam threw another punch on "angry," missing once again. "And after what I heard of him from Yokei and other soldiers… I wanted nothing to do with him."

Coronam pressed the offensive, throwing heavy punches at Austin. She danced around them, noting his increasing irritation.

"How did you escape?" Austin asked. "How did you get to Renora?"

"Celtic married me off to Zentics' niece. Zentics was sterile, and his brother was long dead. The rulership of Renora is strictly for men, and so Celtic betrothed us so that I could cement his dominance over Renora."

"And what of your Renoran lieutenants?" Austin asked. "Do they know of your identity?"

"They aren't a danger to anyone!" Coronam yelled, and he managed to land a heavy slug into Austin's gut. She stumbled away breathlessly, but quickly resumed a fighting stance.

"That wasn't," she breathed, "the question," she wheezed, staring her opponent down. Coronam growled.

"Fine. Opifexa and Cinder know. Opifexa was the bastard daughter of Zentics' brother, and an adept administrator. We were both aliens in his court, and we became fast friends."

"And Cinder?"

Coronam growled again. "Cinder was one of my uncle's soldiers. I met up with him after Celtic was finally defeated. He recognized me and asked for a position in my personal guard. I soon found he was much better at intrigue, and more well-connected, than I first gave him credit for, so I moved him from the soldiery to my spy network."

"Did he help you kill Zentics?" Austin asked with irritation in her voice. Coronam was taken aback.

"Kill Zentics?" he asked, offended. "I would never. He may not have liked me, but I had more respect for him than that. No, he died naturally. I didn't want the throne, but Celtic's machinations gave me no other choice."

Austin released a flurry of quick attacks, of which about half landed, sending Coronam back. He slapped her last jab away and violently pushed her, but Austin recovered quickly.

"Did you ever meet Celtic again?" she asked, frustrated. Coronam knew that she was running out of questions. The match would soon end.

"Only once," he said. "I made frequent visits to my home, but I only met him once after I left. I got updates from the officers."

"What was he like?" Austin asked. "Was he the same as you left him?" Her voice shaped the words into a taunt. Coronam angrily threw a left hook, forcing her off-balance, but he restrained himself from following through.

"He wasn't the man I knew when I left. The war had taken its toll on him. He was as zealously dedicated as ever, but he was falling apart. Yukon's death had hit him hard, or so I heard. When Greatness died, it nearly broke him." Coronam shook his head.

"He was in shambles. He was paranoid, hearing voices, talking to the dead. As ANGQ's invasion grew nearer, though, he reclaimed some of his dignity, became more quiet, more reserved, more sane. But I could hear him talking to himself through the walls of my quarters. It was the first time I had ever pitied him."

"Pity?" Austin asked, indignant. "How could you feel pity for that man? He killed millions!" She went on the attack, recklessly throwing punch after punch. "He killed my father!"

"Austin!" Nitesco interrupted, but Austin ignored him.

"Celtic was still family!" Coronam exclaimed, holding himself back. "A madman he may have been, but he was still my uncle."

"Celtic was a monster and a murderer," Austin said. Her face was red with anger, and she wheezed from the effort of her continuous attacks and the lingering pain of Coronam's gut punch. "We cannot allow a second Celtic to grow."

"I. Am. Not. Celtic!" Coronam screamed. With a burst of adrenaline, he reared back and kicked a charging Austin square in the chest, sending her to the ground. For an instant, he had a dark impulse. He pictured himself on top of Austin, hands on her neck, wringing the life out of her. He fought his emotions and stood still, staring down at his floored opponent.

"I am not Celtic," he repeated, conviction deepening his voice. "I will never become him."

Austin struggled to sit upright, but was too exhausted to do so. She lay flat on her back with her eyes squeezed shut, defeated. "How," she said weakly, "how do we know?"

Coronam frowned. "If I was, you'd already be dead." He turned away from Austin and toward Nitesco who, flanked by his guards, approached the scene.

"That's a very bold statement to make," Nitesco chided.

"It was the truth," Coronam spat back. "I am not Celtic. Don't equate me with that man." He spat out some blood and turned to Austin. "Are you alright?"

"I'm dandy," she said, coughing violently. With significant effort, she managed to get herself up to a sitting position. "And I can see that you're not like your uncle. The way you spoke and the way you moved just now, I felt no reason to doubt your honesty. We'll trust you, for the time being. But I'll be keeping my eyes on you."

Coronam nodded, somewhat sheepish. "I would expect nothing else. And… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to harm you."

"Nothing I haven't felt before," Austin said. Coronam offered her a hand to help her up, but she waved dismissively. "I can get up myself," she insisted.

"Suit yourself," Coronam said, turning to Nitesco. "So, I passed your little test, then?" Coronam laughed weakly, and Nitesco shrugged.

"I suppose. We're done here. You can consider yourself a free man, and you may leave." Nitesco pointed a warning finger. "But don't forget this day, 'Coronam.' No more secrets. Not from us."

"No more secrets," Coronam echoed, and walked away with renewed energy. As he left, he felt a certain sense of security, of assurance.

Nitesco knelt down next to Austin, awkwardly found a way to position his prosthetic leg, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're not badly hurt, are you?" he asked.

Austin shook her head. "Not anywhere important." She kept her gaze locked to the ground and her head hung low.

Nitesco frowned. "There's something wrong. What is it?"

"It's stupid."

"It's probably not as stupid as you think," Nitesco said. "Do you still doubt Coronam?"

"No." She laughed bitterly. "No, I just—it's childish. It's nonsense."

"Tell me anyway."

"I wanted to win. I wanted to beat him, like my father beat Celtic," she said. "Like I said, it's childish." She felt her eyes watering and fought back tears; she couldn't let herself cry.

Nitesco sat quietly for a second. "You don't have to be like your father," he said.

"Don't I, though?" she demanded, looking up suddenly. "I'm following his footsteps in a way I never thought I would. I'm doing what he did, being a commander and a fighter with so much at stake. If I can't win the battles he fought, if I can't win like he did, do I even deserve to be here? Or am I just putting up a front, acting like something I'm not?"

"You're missing something important," Nitesco said. He watched his tone. He had to be careful, supportive. "Your father didn't beat Celtic alone. He had our help, and we succeeded together. Every step of the way, Austin relied on the people around him. He was a great man, but he made mistakes. When he needed help, he had his friends to rely on. If you really want to do what your father did, that's something you need to understand."

Nitesco stood up and brushed the dirt off of his legs. "No one wins alone," he said. He reached out to her. "Don't be afraid to admit when you need a hand."

Austin smiled, took his hand, and stood with his help. "Thanks," she said. "I think I really needed to hear that. Sorry for making you deal with my personal problems."

"Don't mention it," Nitesco said. "We all have our weak moments; we learn from them and grow stronger. I know that better than anyone."

* * *

Meanwhile, Coronam returned to camp and looked around. He needed to check on someone. It was no surprise that she found him first.

"There you are!" Opifexa said, walking briskly up to him and then walking alongside him.

"There you are," he echoed with a relieved smile. "Have you been well?"

Opifexa lowered her voice. "If you can call suddenly being detained with no explanation and no answers to any of my questions 'well,' then yes, I've been quite well, my liege."

"I'm sorry," Coronam said. "Something happened and I wasn't able to contact you."

"I figured as much," she said. "Let me guess; you dropped the ball?"

"I'd prefer to say that we dropped the ball. Actually, I'd prefer to say that Vulpix dropped the ball."

Opifexa laughed and shook her head. "I will never understand how one man can be so skilled and so inept at the same time."

"He has his faults," Coronam agreed, "but he's a good friend and he comes through when it counts."

"Oh, did you think I was referring to Vulpix?"

The pair laughed together at the good-natured teasing.

"So, they know your little secret, then?" Opifexa asked.

"Yes," Coronam confirmed, "but they've decided to work with me regardless."

"How did you persuade them to do that?"

"I didn't, really. I just told them everything and, well, they decided to trust me."

"Really?" she asked.

Coronam nodded slowly, as if he was still having trouble believing it himself.

Opifexa smiled. Then she laughed warmly. "My liege, I think we've found good allies. And I believe they have found a good ally in you."

Coronam agreed. He had doubted himself before, but now he could put those doubts to rest.

He was not Celtic. He never would be. And that knowledge was a sweet, sweet joy.


	17. Chapter 17

**March 6, 9 ATC**

 **County of Cacao, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Coronam stood on the sandy beaches of the Heretical Inlet, watching as the last of the Badaz League's ships weighed anchor on the shore. The crammed troops spilled out of them as they landed, springing forth like wine from a cracked bottle. Coronam tallied the vessels as they arrived. They were missing two.

As he noted that, the second-to-last ship pulled up to the shoreline, skimming the sandbar, throwing up sand, and coming to a halt. Coronam wiped the sand off of his cloak and walked over.

Instead of groups of soldiers, a drove of rough-looking mercenaries stepped off the boat, casting suspicious glances at Coronam as they walked by. Coronam huffed to himself and walked up the gangplank onto the boat.

"Who is the captain of this vessel?" he asked. Jelo poked his head above the steering wheel.

"I am," he said, breathless. "Oh, shit. Give me a second. I'm no good on water."

"Seasick?" Coronam asked, amused. Jelo nodded and gagged.

"Like I said, I'm no good on water. That, and I'm pretty sure the pilot was drunk when he took us over here. I could have done it better with my eyes closed!"

"I'm sure," Coronam remarked with snark. "Where is your friend? The one with the crescent axe?"

"On the next ship coming," Jelo replied. "It's some ways across. After the rest had set out, one of the soldiers discovered it had a leak, so we stayed behind to help fix it."

"Hm. Well, you're here now, aren't you? Come on, now," Coronam beckoned for Jelo to follow, and Jelo, still weak-kneed, obeyed.

"Who were those men who came with you?" Coronam asked.

"The mercenaries the Mask sent," Jelo said. They look rough, but they aren't common street thugs. They're hardy and willing to serve… so long as they get paid."

"I'm guessing the Mask left that responsibility to us?" Jelo couldn't help but chuckle at Coronam's disappointment.

"He considers it part of your compensation for his help in the war," he responded matter-of-factly.

Coronam smirked and kicked a rock into the water. "How much is he paying you to say that?"

"More than I deserve," Jelo conceded with a grin. "But I'm not going to tell him that."

"I won't tell if you don't," Coronam said, and they exchanged small chuckles.

"Coronam! Jelo!" Austin's call interrupted them, and they turned to see her waving them over to where she and Nitesco were standing. "Are all the ships in?"

"There's only one more coming," Coronam said. "They had to patch a leak."

"No worries," Nitesco said. "I think it's coming in now."

As soon as he said this, the final ship came hurtling towards the shore, drifting in even more gracelessly than the last. It drifted sideways into the sandbar, throwing up a cloud of sand, rocks, and wood splinters before coming to a halt. The gangplank was haphazardly dropped, and Kazehh staggered down before collapsing on the beach.

"Oh dear," Nitesco said, a grimace on his face. "We really must get better pilots." They looked on as Kazehh dizzily struggled to stand.

"Yeah… you guys go on ahead and strategize or whatever," Jelo said. "I'll make sure that we didn't lose anybody to seasickness."

"Good man," Austin said as Jelo walked away. "Now, do we have everything we need? Weapons, foodstuffs, tents…"

"They're unpacking as we speak," Coronam said. "But that will take a while, and it's almost evening. Should we set up camp here?"

Nitesco shrugged. "It seems as good a place as any. Get some men together for an evening and a night watch and tell the rest to set up camp. I don't want our invasion force to be destroyed before we've had a chance to do some damage, especially not when Inferno is within our grasp."

"Very good," Coronam said. "I'll get right on it."

Nitesco watched as Coronam walked off. "He's certainly become more… affable."

"I suppose," Austin said, "that not killing someone is a good way to earn that person's loyalty."

"You're learning." Nitesco smirked and turned to face the thin forests behind them. His expression darkened enough to alert Austin.

"Nitesco?" she asked. "You alright?"

"We're close now," he stated, staring into the forests. "We're on the edge of ending this war. Don't get me wrong, that's a good thing, but it also worries me."

"Why?"

"We're this close to ending it, but what if we fall through?" Nitesco wrung his hands nervously. "All three of the Badaz commanders are here, as are a large percentage of our forces. If we lose, if we can't make it to Inferno in time, we've lost all our commanders and wasted men and supplies. It's a gamble I hope we can pull off."

"Well, you pulled it off during Celtic's Revolt, right?" Austin asked. "You, Gwydion, my father. You led your forces to the heart of Celtic's domain and decimated him! Why can't we do the same to Inferno?"

Nitesco sighed and scratched his nose. "You know, our victory over Celtic was more luck than strategy."

"That's not true," Austin said, incredulous.

"It is. Oh, sure, we had a plan, but it was a long shot, and we knew it. We had lost about two thousand men taking Nuts and Dolts, leaving our forces on par with Celtic's. The fact that Celtic hadn't reinforced his garrison was the only reason we pulled it off. What's more, most of the Subreddit had lost its resolve. They had lost most of their manpower and their resources. If we had failed, it would've been the end of the resistance movement. Celtic would've won."

Nitesco shook his head. "It's a grim reality, Austin, but we're banking on luck here. If we fail, then Inferno wins."

Austin nodded contemplatively. Nitesco watched as her expression dimmed before unexpectedly brightening again. She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Then it's a good thing we're going to win." She patted him on the shoulder once more and began walking away.

As Austin ambled off, Nitesco couldn't help but smile. For whatever reason, he felt she would be right in the end.

* * *

 **March 12, 9 ATC**

 **Chanel Castle, Duchy of Leporin, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Zissman paced about in his chambers, hands clasped behind his back. Jannis had departed several days ago to make sure the League would secure their beachhead unopposed, but he had been gone longer than he anticipated. What if he had been caught? Losing Jannis would be a dreadful blow to the Church.

A knock on the door interrupted his worrying. "Who is it?" he called.

"I've returned from my errand." It was Jannis. Zissman breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come in, Jannis. Shut the door behind you." Jannis did as he was told, and Zissman fetched a cask of mead and two cups from the cabinet. They took their seats at the small table and Zissman began pouring.

"I was beginning to think you were compromised," Zissman said, and he sipped his mead. "You had me worried."

"We're the same age, Irving," Jannis stated with a wry smirk. "You don't need to mother me."

"You're vital to my operations here, Jannis. And I told you not to call me by my first name." Zissman shook his head, tutting mockingly. "What's the news?"

"They made landfall in Cacao six days ago. They've been on the march since."

"And have you cleared their path?" Zissman asked. Jannis sighed.

"Communication in the northwest has faltered because of an outbreak of measles," he complained, and he took a gulp of mead. "Our operatives weren't able to spread the message outside the borders, so I'll have to return to the countryside and do it region by region."

Zissman scoffed. "Then our gamble becomes more risky. Now there are more opportunities to be caught."

"We're committed to this gamble now, Scion," Jannis said, and he took another gulp. "We may as well go through with it."

Zissman sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right. We are committed. We have to follow through." He finished his mead with a swig and walked over to the window. "Does Inferno know you've returned, Jannis?"

Jannis shook his head. "No. I heard from a servant she left a few hours before I arrived."

"Good. Good." Zissman turned and patted Jannis on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to cut your return so short, but I need you in the field. Clear the path so they may cut away the chaff."

"More quoted scripture?" Jannis asked. He drained what was left of his mead. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"Wiseass." Zissman smirked and shook his head. "You have your orders. Begone."

"Fine." Jannis stood and walked over to the cabinet. "May I at least take the cask with?"

"There's a full one in the cabinet, if you want."

"Don't mind if I do." Jannis grabbed a full cask and turned for the door. "Make sure that nobody learns I returned. They may begin to suspect."

"You know I wouldn't make such a sloppy mistake," Zissman said. He paused for effect as Jannis opened the door. "We're close to the end now, my friend, so close to our ascent. We cannot falter now."

"I will not, Scion." Jannis turned and bowed his head obediently. "I swear it."

Jannis left, closing the door behind him, and Zissman returned to the window. Victory was in his grasp. All he had to do now was wait.

* * *

 **March 29, 9 ATC**

 **Duchy of Leporin, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Austin, from her position on her horse, scanned the rolling hills of the Crossharese countryside, looking for any patrols. It had been two and a half weeks since their landing, and they had encountered remarkably few patrols. Not that she was complaining, of course, but the fact that she, let alone the thirteen thousand men with her, was able to march through hostile territory largely uncontested was strange. Suspicious.

Gwydion rode up beside her, scrutinizing Austin's expression. It was the expression she wore when she was trying to solve a problem.

"Austin." Gwydion announced his presence, and Austin shook herself from her contemplation.

"Gwydion," she responded plainly. "What brings you this far to the back of the march?"

"Nitesco's stopped up ahead. He says he's spotted a large army in the area and wants to discuss what to do."

Austin nodded wordlessly, setting her horse into a trot alongside Gwydion until they arrived at the front of the march. Nitesco remained atop his horse, scanning the trees and fields that pockmarked the otherwise empty hills for enemies. Vulpix and Coronam had opted to dismount, with Vulpix wistfully staring off, in a trance, while Coronam paced worriedly.

"What's the problem?" Austin asked. Nitesco pointed down the road they were traveling on.

"My scouts tell me a large Crossharese force is marching this way, about ten thousand strong. We cannot risk them encountering us; we must be at full strength when we face Inferno. But we can evade them. Vulpix?"

Vulpix nodded and pointed to a large forest to the east, with a creek running through it.

"We will split our forces, to decrease the chances of being noticed. Coronam and Nitesco will lead their forces through the forest, following the creek until it arrives at Lowlands Lake."

With his other hand, he beckoned to a smaller side road, which stretched through many of the wheat fields they saw on the way there. "Austin and I will take the remainder of the forces down this road, through a few small farming villages. The people there care little for our politics; they won't report our movements. We will rendezvous at Lowlands Lake; Inferno's stronghold is only a few days' march from there."

"Great," Coronam said, impatient. He got on his horse and set it into a walk. "The sooner we split up, the sooner we take on Inferno. Let's get a move on!"

Nitesco got back on his horse and beckoned for his soldiers to follow him. As he and Coronam led their soldiers into the forest, Vulpix remounted and headed towards the back of the march, where the Arkosians were. Austin waited with Gwydion for their soldiers to move to the front of the line.

"Is splitting up really the best option?" Austin asked. "What if the army sees us? There's no way we'd be able to hold off that many soldiers with our forces halved."

"Perhaps not," Gwydion said. "But the scouts know they're close. If we moved as one unit, they'd spot us. If they spot us while we're divided, then we ramp up the speed and draw them to Lowlands Lake. They'd be crushed when the other half arrives."

"Is the Lake near?" Austin asked. "I don't like being split up."

Gwydion looked south and stroked his chin. "If we move quickly, we can be there by sundown. We'll strike camp there, if we can."

"Very well." Austin kicked her horse into a trot. "Let's move out!"

She and Gwydion began riding down the side path, their men close behind as they marched down the winding road. Austin began scanning the landscape. There were multiple farms spread across the fields, but nobody tending to them.

"Gwydion?" Gwydion turned to face her. "Didn't Vulpix say there was a settlement nearby?"

Gwydion scoffed. "Yeah. He remembers from when he was here before."

Austin frowned at the malice in Gwydion's voice. "Do you not trust Vulpix?"

"It's not that I don't trust him," Gwydion said. He sighed. "I questioned him while you and Nitesco had your fun with Coronam. I believe he's genuine. But I still remember everything he did. Just because I trust him doesn't mean I have to like him."

Austin shook her head. "I suppose that's fair," she said, somewhat disappointed. As if on cue, Vulpix rode up beside them, a worried look on his face.

"Austin. Gwydion," he said, absentmindedly.

"Vulpix," Gwydion said with mock enthusiasm. "What brings you to the front of the line?"

"Nothing in particular," he said. Gwydion grunted and turned to Austin, who had once again begun staring at the empty fields.

"Austin, what keeps drawing you to those fields?" Gwydion asked. Austin stroked her chin.

"We haven't encountered a single patrol on our march through," Austin said. She turned to Gwydion and Vulpix. "Doesn't that strike either of you as a bit odd?"

Gwydion shrugged. "We know Inferno's going on the offensive. She may have devoted her men to invasion rather than defense."

"The Pollinationals are notoriously stingy with their resources," Vulpix said. "Especially Inferno. She would have kept some men in reserve in case of an invasion, but the only detachment we've seen thus far is the one that forced us to split up."

"And the villages," Austin continued. "We've passed several dozen of them. Aren't any of them good enough patriots to report a thirteen-thousand-man army marching across their homeland?"

"They all seemed abandoned," Gwydion added. "It is quite odd, now that I think about it." He pointed up ahead, seeing the roofs of houses poke over the hills. "It seems we've found another settlement. Let's see if anyone's home, shall we?"

The army marched into the town, earning surprised, fearful, or at least curious looks from the townspeople. As Austin, Gwydion and Vulpix marched ahead, the came across two men arguing loudly in the town square.

"Champion, you cannot expect me to forsake my duty to my Queen! If an army is marching through here, the authorities must be notified!"

A large, bulky man in a crimson suit of armor stood over the town's mayor, a short, gruff man with a patchy beard. The armored man growled upon hearing this.

"Logan, the Scion himself has demanded that I clear a path for these invaders. Your job is not to question, it is to obey. Now, round up the villagers…" He trailed off upon seeing the three commanders riding toward him. He frowned.

"Perhaps not. It's a little late for that."

"Who are you?" Gwydion asked. He punctuated his statement by drawing his sword. The man seemed unfazed.

"Easy there, Gwydion," Austin chided. "He hasn't done anything yet." She squinted at the man. Something about him seemed familiar.

"You were at the Diet, right?" Austin asked, suddenly recognizing him. "You were Zissman's bodyguard. That's how I know you!"

"He's with the Church?!" Vulpix exclaimed. He drew his saber and angled it at the man, who remained unfazed.

"Yes, I am with the Church. I am Champion Jannis, right hand of Scion Zissman, leader of the Church Militant, and I am here to help you."

Before Gwydion or Vulpix had a chance to fire off an accusation or a rude question, Austin held up her hand to silence them. She furrowed her brow.

"Why does the Church help us?" Austin asked the obvious question. Before he answered, Jannis gestured for the mayor to leave their presence. Once the mayor had, reluctantly, scuttled off, he answered.

"Queen Inferno is a warmonger and a tyrant. Her interests are opposite those of the Church. She must be removed. Your invasion is our best chance of doing so."

"So it was you who gave us safe passage through her territory?"

Jannis nodded. "We have influence in this region. Not all, but a good portion of the people here are believers, which means that they are open to the Church's suggestion. We… persuaded the villagers in your path not to report your incursion."

"That doesn't explain the lack of patrols," Gwydion said. "If you are behind that, then you have more influence than you're telling us."

Jannis grumbled. "We have our ties to Inferno's bureaucracy, but we are quite eager to sever them."

"Bullshit." Vulpix glared at Jannis. "This is a power play. I know of the Church's ties to Inferno. Adherents give her supplies, medicine. For god's sake, they're her goddamn state church!" He growled and turned to his fellow commanders. "They can't be trusted. I say we kill him now."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Jannis intoned. "You may regret that."

"And who will make us regret that, Jannis? You and what army?" He sniggered darkly to himself.

"That's enough, Zealander!" Austin shouted. She returned her gaze to Jannis. "Have you cleared the road ahead of us?"

"Mostly," he said. "But it won't matter now that you're so close to her stronghold."

"Is she in it?"

"She should be. Scion Zissman is doing his best to keep her occupied."

Austin nodded. "Very well. Run back and tell your master that we appreciate his help. And warn him not to meddle in any more of our affairs from here on out."

Jannis smiled a knowing smile. "He wouldn't dream of it. I will depart immediately." As Jannis was leaving, Vulpix leaned over to Austin.

"Are we just going to let him live?"

"He hasn't done anything wrong, 'Zealander.' Why would we kill him?"

"I'll stay my blade out of respect for you," he replied, "but mark my words, we'll both regret we did. The Church can't be trusted."

"We'll deal with that when we come to it," Austin retorted. "For now, we have a rendezvous to get to. Rally up, men! Inferno's not far!"

Austin bucked her horse into a walk, and the soldiers resumed their march.

* * *

 **April 3, 9 ATC**

 **Chanel Castle, Duchy of Leporin, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Inferno was in her throne room when she heard the news. She had been talking with the rest of her circle. Faker was telling her about developments in the Rubian theatre, and that while the east remained mostly loyal, the west remained outside their control. Jay stood ever at her side, impassive and slightly bored. Anti paced in the corners, watching, listening, sensing that something wasn't quite right given Zissman's unusual restlessness. The man would not stop twiddling his thumbs.

Finally, as Faker concluded his presentation, Jannis opened the doors unannounced. Inferno stood up, possibly to berate him, possibly to tell him to leave, but the look he wore on his face silenced her. Jannis bowed as he approached the throne.

"Queen Inferno." The formality, unusual from the Church representatives, put Inferno on edge. She steepled her fingers and frowned.

"You have something to say. Report."

And so Jannis told her what had transpired.

There was silence when he finished. Inferno's face twitched. With stiff, jerky movements, she stood up from her throne and began pacing toward Jannis.

"Tell me, Jannis. How many miles inland are we from the Inlet shores?"

"I wouldn't know," Jannis answered plainly. Inferno's nostrils flared at the perceived sass, but she remained composed.

"Several hundred," she said. Her voice gradually increased in volume. "It would have taken them at least three weeks to make the trek from shore to here. I made sure my land was well-garrisoned and scouted. So tell me, Jannis, how it is possible for thirteen thousand men to march across _my_ land uninterrupted?!"

"I don't know," he responded. "But no matter how it transpired, they're here. They're on our doorstep."

"How long do we have?" Inferno asked. Jannis coughed.

"They will be here by tomorrow."

Silence fell over the hall. Inferno clenched her fists.

"Leave. All of you. Jay, you can stay."

Jannis nodded and walked out, followed closely by Zissman, Faker and Anti. Once the door closed behind them, Inferno sighed.

"How could this happen?" Inferno asked. Jay was perturbed by her reaction to this. She did not seem at all angry or fearful. Only… disappointed. Almost defeated. It was discomforting to see her in such a state.

"What will you do?" Jay asked. "Should I arrange an escape?"

"No," Inferno said. "We must meet them head-on. If I flee, I admit defeat to my men and my country. No. I have to stay." She uncloaked her royal gown and let it fall aside, revealing a more combat-appropriate leather jacket and pants underneath.

"Fetch me my falchion, Jay. I haven't practiced in a while, and now's as good a time as any."

"Very well, my lady," Jay politely responded. He went off to the armory to grab Inferno's sword, leaving her alone.

Inferno looked around the hall. On the second floor, over the edge of the mezzanine railing, she could see a painting of her half-brother and predecessor staring back at her. Despite his sentimental inefficiencies, she never could bear to get rid of it.

She could not bear to die as he did: at an intruder's hand in her own halls of power. She would not die such an ignoble death.

"I will not share your fate, brother," she spoke up to the painting. The painting stared back silently, its face passive yet knowing.

It wouldn't matter, she thought. It would be over soon anyways, one way or another.


	18. Chapter 18

**April 4, 9 ATC**

 **Chanel Castle, Duchy of Leporin, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

The banners of the Badaz League rippled majestically in the wind as they marched down the road toward Inferno's stronghold. At the head of the army were the five commanders, hands on their weapons, ready to spearhead the final invasion. Their men had miraculously suffered no losses marching through Inferno's territory, and were prepared for anything. Today, Inferno would die.

They marched past a few scant trees into a large, rocky clearing. Inferno's stronghold sat on top of the Crossharish highlands, with a magnificent view of the surrounding lands. The stronghold itself was massive, as large as a small town, and armed to the teeth. Within the thick outer wall lied an equally thick inner wall, and within that sat Inferno's private castle, overlooking everything.

As the commanders marched up to the gate, a tall, armored man stared down from the gatehouse. Austin noticed his analyzing gaze and marked him as a potential threat.

"Ah, the League finally arrives!" The man called down. "I've been looking forward to this."

"Where is Inferno?" Coronam yelled. "We would very much like to see her."

"She doesn't have the time to deal with upstarts like you," the man shot back. "Even if you do pierce our walls, I will not allow you access to her."

"And who are you to make such bold promises?" Nitesco asked with a sinister tone.

The man scoffed. "I am Jay, Captain of her majesty's Honor Guard, and I promise that I will die before I let you lay a finger on her!"

"That can be arranged," Austin retorted. Jay smiled.

"Such ardor. Do you know what today is?" Jay asked. When he received no answer, he continued. "Today is the ninth anniversary of the demise of King Celtic. Nitesco, I think it's fitting that the date of your greatest victory shall be the date of your greatest defeat."

"Don't count your chickens before they've hatched, Jay," Nitesco shot back. "Celtic did that, and you know what I did to him."

"If your memoirs are true, then Celtic did more to you than you to he." Jay shook his head. "Who knows? Maybe when this is over, you'll have a second fake leg. If we leave you alive, that is."

"If Inferno had half the wit you have, we wouldn't be in this mess," Austin spoke up. "Unfortunately, she's dragged you and the rest of her soldiers down with her." She patted Nitesco on the shoulder. "We're done here."

They marched back to their lines, ignoring the insults that Jay threw at them as they left. Once safely out of the archers' range, they dismounted and beckoned for Gwydion and Vulpix to come over.

"Alright, boys, this is it!" Austin exclaimed with youthful eagerness. "We've got some scouts on this, right? How many entrances are there?"

"Only one," Coronam replied. "But there are other potential weak spots in the walls. On the other side of the compound is a large guard tower overlooking the southern highlands. That could provide a suitable distraction were we to blow it to smithereens." A more bloodthirsty eagerness crept into his voice as he chuckled maliciously.

"I can handle the south tower," Nitesco said. "I'll take the Gunnian soldiers and some artillery and breach it there. Gwydion, are you with me?"

"Always," he said confidently. "It'll be just like old times. We can take the Mask's mercenaries too, just to wreak a little extra chaos there." Gwydion rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"I'll stay back with the artillery and my soldiers in case they try a counterattack," Vulpix said. "Which leaves Coronam and Austin for the frontal assault."

"Breach the walls and we'll bring them down," Austin said. "Our soldiers will steamroll them."

"It's decided, then?" Coronam spoke up. "Good. The day is young, and I aim to be sleeping in a proper bed tonight. That is, if we leave any in that castle intact." Another malicious chuckle.

"There's no time to lose, then," Vulpix said, and he turned to his chief artilleryman. "Soldier, let the first round loose! I want to see their walls filled with iron!"

The artillery chief obeyed, and the countryside erupted in smoke and iron. The siege began.

* * *

Zissman stood in the mezzanine of Queen Inferno's throne room, watching with some amusement as soldiers, servants, and castle guardsmen bustled in the chamber below. The League had begun their assault, as the sounds of cannon fire and explosions told him, and his window to act had opened.

"Scion." Jannis' voice shook him from his distraction. "The League has begun their siege."

The sound of a cannonball exploding nearby startled Zissman, who nearly fell over the railing. "I heard," he deadpanned. "Did you bring some men?"

"Half a dozen of our finest," Jannis confirmed, "in case things go awry." Zissman looked behind Jannis and saw six men dressed in the traditional red armor of the Church Crusaders. He smiled.

"Very good. Now, follow me. There is much to do and little time to do it." Zissman waved for the soldiers to follow him. Jannis took his place at the front, next to Zissman.

"Where are we going, Scion?" he asked. Zissman led them down the painted corridors of Inferno's castle, listening to the muffled rumbles of the castle defenses collapsing.

"You see, Champion Jannis, Inferno has had significant political clout in the Subreddit for some time, even before we came here. And do you know why?"

Jannis shook his head. The party went down a staircase and turned down a well-furnished hall.

"Blackmail. Blackmail is the answer. It's Inferno's most well-guarded secret. Since we began working with her, I've had my spies scurrying about, trying to figure out why Inferno, despite her country's obvious weakness after Celtic's Revolt, hadn't been invaded or deposed. The answer was blackmail."

The party turned into the last room on the left: Inferno's private study. Inside, it was nothing special: bookshelves lining the walls, a few small windows and paintings, a nondescript black desk with a black rug to match, and a couple small statues of Kings and Queens Inferno past. The soldiers entered the room and began scanning it for anything out of place.

"I puzzled on it for years, Jannis. First, the question was what it was. Then, the question was where to find it." Zissman walked over to Inferno's desk and took a seat on the edge. "But it turns out, my dear Jannis, that the answer was under our noses the entire time."

Zissman stooped down and pried up the carpet, revealing a large trapdoor underneath. Jannis grabbed the handle and flung it up, revealing a set of stairs leading down into a secret passage. Zissman grinned like a child receiving a birthday present.

"I was talking to Inferno in here a few weeks back and I felt the hollowness in the floor under the carpet. Quite amusing, really. All these spies for all this time and it was right here." Zissman began his descent down the stairs, followed closely by his men. At the bottom was a large room, five times the size of Inferno's study, filled from end to end with bookshelves containing scrapbooks of documents. Zissman approached one with the label 'Duke McDouggal - Milk and Cereal" and ran his finger along it. Jannis looked around the stone cellar, confused.

"This is it?" he asked. "This is what you brought me here to see?"

"Not just see. Collect." Zissman found a small, empty crate in the corner and tossed it to Jannis. "This, Jannis, is the key to our ascent. Inferno could get by with the existence of blackmail, but we are foreigners, Jannis. They will not trust us. We will need to provide them proof."

"What's so important about it?"

"Jannis, in this room is a gold mine of information. Intercepted letters, stolen documents, and records of every misdeed, murder, bastard child and backdoor agreement that's gone on in this Subreddit. This, right here, is more valuable than all the gold in Inferno's vaults."

"Why all this beating around the bush?" Jannis asked. "Can we not rely on the authority Inferno's given us?"

Zissman sighed. "Why waste resources convincing these lords to heel when we can force them to with less effort? Why spend gold and iron when parchment will do the trick? This way, we can gain control and spread our message in a tenth of the time we might otherwise."

Jannis sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'll collect your documents. But I don't like subterfuge like this."

"It's for the greater good. It's for the Goddess."

Jannis frowned. Perhaps Zissman had a point. He turned to the six soldiers he had brought with him. "Alright, soldiers. Grab a crate and stuff as much paper as you can into it. We'll be in and out within the hour."

* * *

When the first cannonball went through the north portcullis, Kazehh and Jelo were among the first to spew forth from the breach, into the battlefield. They felt eager, knowing that someday they would tell tales of how they were the first to attack Inferno's fortress.

The future would have to wait, unfortunately, because things were getting dicey in the now.

Jelo swung his morning star upward, knocking several teeth, along with a significant amount of jawbone, out of the soldier he was fighting. With his weapon in the air, he brought it down onto an unaware spearman's head, shattering his skull like a cheap ceramic cup. Kazehh wound up his crescent axe, charging and swinging it in a wide arc in front of him, beheading, or at least disfiguring, many of the soldiers in front of him at once. He swiftly turned around and embedded the axe blade in the shoulder of a Crossharish soldier creeping up behind Jelo, and Jelo returned the favor by swinging his morning star into the stomach of a soldier about to swing at Kazehh's head.

"That was close," Kazehh said. Jelo nodded.

"I know. Where do we go from here?"

An arrow flew past them, skimming Kazehh's cheek and ending its trail in the skull of the Arkosian soldier behind them. As the man spasmed and collapsed on the ground, Kazehh and Jelo met each other's now startled gaze.

"Let's get to cover, holy shit," Kazehh said. The pair dashed off and ducked behind a large pile of rubble, then began scanning the battlefield.

"What do we do now?" Jelo asked. Kazehh stroked his chin.

"Well," Kazehh said, "if Austin and Coronam are going to get inside the castle, they need the portcullis opened. But the walls over here look intact. Wait! There!" He pointed at one of the taller towers on the inner wall. At its base was a small wooden door, which had gone unnoticed by the rest of the League forces. Jelo saw it and nodded reluctantly.

"Okay. So we go in the tower and climb the wall. Then what?"

"Then we find the portcullis and open it, our soldiers ride through and kill Inferno. Easy!"

"Easy?" Jelo asked. "You're insane!"

"Likely," Kazehh admitted with a childish gleam in his eye, "but do you have a better idea?"

Jelo sighed, resigned. "No. It seems that death is just as likely up there as down here. At least up there we might die with a view."

"As good an argument as any I've heard," Kazehh said. He looked out at the battlefield swarming with soldiers and swallowed. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be!" Jelo exclaimed. They vaulted over the rubble they used for cover and booked it toward the tower, ignoring the clamor of battle around them. Once they arrived, Jelo ran into the door with all his might, shattering it and startling the two men behind it.

"Hey!" One of them yelled, but Jelo cracked his skull open with little delay. The other reached for his spear, but Kazehh swiftly deprived him of his head. The pair stopped to catch their breaths as they looked up a spiral stone staircase, which would lead them up to the wall proper.

"After you," Kazehh said. Jelo and shook his head.

"No, none of that. I busted down this door, you get to go in first this time."

"But there was barely anyone in here!" Kazehh exclaimed.

"We didn't know that. For all I knew, there could've been a dozen men behind this door."

Kazehh sighed. "Alright, fine. But stay close!"

Jelo obeyed, following Kazehh up the stairs. They emerged from the tower and took stock of their surroundings: the walls had been smashed by cannon shot, and the men on the wall ignored them, preferring to focus on the battlefield below.

"There!" Kazehh pointed at the north gate: the portcullis was closed, and the winch operating it sat in plain sight, undefended. "There it is!"

"Hey!" An archer turned to them, noticing their lack of uniform. "Are you—"

Jelo howled and hit him square across the jaw with his morning star, sending the archer off the edge of the wall. Some of the other men manning it turned and noticed.

"Oh, shit," Kazehh grumbled. He charged at the first one, grabbing him by the collar of his armor and swinging him in front of him as a second archer fired an arrow at him. Letting the first archer's body collapse, he stuck his axe's blade in the sternum of the second one. Jelo rushed ahead and took the last archer that had taken notice out.

As a cannonball stuck an adjacent section of the inner wall, the pair charged down the stairs towards the portcullis. Jelo stopped to catch his breath while Kazehh got his hands on the winch.

"Jelo, would you like to help?" he asked pointedly. "This thing is heavy." Jelo waved him off.

"No," Jelo said, and he turned around slightly. "I'll stay here and keep— holy shit!" Jelo cut off as he ducked under the sword of an ambusher. He attempted to strike back, but the attacker knocked the morning star away with his scimitar and kicked Jelo back. Kazehh let go of the winch and readied his axe, while Jelo stood up and recuperated.

"Peasants," the man spat. Judging by his armor, he was of high rank. "You should've stayed with the artillery, hauling the shot. It's where you belong."

"And who the fuck are you?" Jelo asked, anger in his voice. The man angled his scimitar at the two of them and smiled.

"I am Jay, Captain of her majesty's Honor Guard. I must admit, I am impressed you two managed to make it all the way over here. And pleasantly surprised; I was afraid I would have no worthy opponents today."

"Then go to the grave on a happy note, you bastard halfwit!" Kazehh shouted. Jay merely laughed.

"Such vulgarity. It shows your true station." Jay scoffed. "You two made a valiant attempt, but it ends here. Any last words?"

Kazehh and Jelo said nothing and raised their weapons.

Jay smiled. "Good. Let's begin!"

* * *

Nitesco and Gwydion stood outside the castle walls, watching as the Arkosian artillery battered it with iron and marveling at both the amount of stone being blown out of the walls and the fact that they were still standing after so much abuse. Gwydion stroked his chin.

"Whatever that wall is made of, we need to make the walls of Guns N' Roses out of that too."

Nitesco shook his head. "If there's enough left of it to take home, then we'll salvage the materials."

Another cannonball struck the wall, sending another plume of rubble up into the air. The wall was breaking. It was only a matter of time until they could storm the fortress.

"Are you ready?" Gwydion asked, drawing his sword. Nitesco grinned.

"When have I not been?"

Another volley of cannon shot finally opened a hole in the wall large enough for their forces to charge through. Nitesco grinned and raised his sword.

"Men! Rally up! Today, we take Inferno's head!"

The soldiers bellowed a war cry and followed Nitesco and Gwydion as they charged the castle. Within moments, they were in the thick of the action, having led their troops into the courtyard connected to the south gate. Nitesco vaulted over a heap of rubble and killed an unsuspecting shieldbearer before turning to Gwydion.

"There," Nitesco said, pointing to the inner wall. The south gate was closed, and on the other side lied Inferno's castle. "That's our target."

"How do we get in?" Gwydion asked. Nitesco shrugged.

"I don't know. But we might as well fight while I figure it out."

"Fair enough." Gwydion readied his hand cannon and hopped over the rubble into the thick of battle, followed by Nitesco. Soon, they were back at the front, hewing soldiers aside and barking orders to their men.

"So," Gwydion yelled above the din of battle. An enemy soldier swung a sword at him, and managed to chip Gwydion just below the nose. The soldier received Gwydion's sword in the stomach for his efforts. "Any ideas yet?"

"Not exactly!" Nitesco exclaimed. An enemy skirmisher dove toward him, narrowly missing his tackle, and hit the ground hard. Another soldier charged Nitesco, but was quickly disarmed. Nitesco shoved the soldier's sword in the prone skirmisher's back before beheading the soldier.

"Well, an idea would be nice!" Gwydion yelled. They slowly migrated through the crowd of warriors, swinging madly in an attempt to save themselves. Nitesco grunted.

"Well, if you need an idea so badly, come up with one yourself!" He noticed a soldier about to spear Gwydion in the back, and quickly slashed him across the chest. "And for God's sake, watch your back!"

"I'm trying, Nitesco!" Gwydion said, and he shot an attacking soldier in the head with his hand cannon.

"Have you got anything?"

"No," Gwydion said sheepishly. Nitesco groaned.

"Well, we can't just—"

A stray projectile flew over the outer wall and struck the inner wall, sending a shower of dust and rock over the battling soldiers. The rubble collapsed in a small pile at the foot of the inner wall and left an opening from where it had fallen.

"Oh," Gwydion said.

"That was unexpected," Nitesco commented. He turned to the handful of soldiers that were still behind them and had not gone off to fight Inferno's garrison. "But not unwelcome. Come on men! Through the breach!"

Nitesco, Gwydion and the men under them clambered up the ruined wall, taking advantage of the enemy soldiers' surprise. Nitesco grabbed one by the collar and threw him off the wall as his soldiers pressed forward.

"Fan out, boys! Take the rest of the defenders! Gwydion and I will take the castle!"

The soldiers obeyed, rushing off to take on the other defenders manning the inner wall. Gwydion frowned as he watched them scurry off.

"Do you think we have enough to disarm the defenses?"

"More than enough," Nitesco said. "Inferno's dedicated most of her defenses to the outer wall and the courtyards."

Gwydion nodded slowly and pointed at the castle. It had no defenses on it, save for a few palace guardsmen standing on the towers or running along the walls. He smiled.

"All the better for us," Gwydion said. "Shall we go in?"

"Yes," Nitesco said. "I think we shall."

* * *

Jay was an opponent unlike any Kazehh or Jelo had faced before. His defense was impeccable; neither Jelo nor Kazehh were able to break his guard, and he was quick to roll out of the way if there was an incoming strike he could not deflect. However, Jay was also aggressive, and even when they were on the offensive, both Kazehh and Jelo felt like they were struggling.

"Do you even know why you're here?" Jay asked. Jelo tried an underhand swing, but Jay blocked it and severed a spike from the morning star with his scimitar. Jelo countered Jay's riposte with a punch to the chest, stiffening Jay but not stopping him.

"Shut the fuck up," Jelo said. Another swing, and another spike gone in the deflection. Soon, Jelo thought, he'd just be swinging around a hammer.

Kazehh twirled his crescent axe menacingly, unleashing a flurry of spinning blows. Jay grunted and stepped back, but his guard held.

"You are weak," Jay sneered, and he struck at Kazehh. Kazehh deflected the first strike, but the second one caught him in the ear, taking a chunk of it with it.

"Didn't you hear Jelo?" Kazehh asked sardonically. He felt a hard metal boot behind his knee and his legs collapsed from under him. As Jay brought his scimitar down for a killing blow, Jelo stuck his morning star in front of it, blocking the strike but denting his weapon.

"Nobody hurts my friends!" Jelo roared, and he swung at Jay. the spikes on his morning star pierced him in the chest and tore off part of his breastplate, but Jay staggered backwards and readied himself again.

"You two will die worthless deaths," Jay taunted. "Inferno's victory is already assured."

"Not if we can help it!" Kazehh exclaimed. He swung at Jay, but Jay ducked under it and struck the long handle, splitting the axe in two and slicing a shallow cut across Kazehh's chest. Jay hit Kazehh with a swift kick to the stomach, sending him to the ground with a pained yelp.

"She will escape and regroup elsewhere. Then she will return and destroy this pithy attempt to end her reign, and you will die with it."

Jelo howled again, attacking Jay with a speed and ferocity that he'd never had before. Jay raised his scimitar and blocked the strike as best he could, taking a few slices to his forearms as he did so. Unfortunately, Jelo had broken off all the spikes on his hammer and was now swinging around a misshapen ball of metal on a stick.

"Just die already!" Jelo grunted. He wound up and struck Jay as hard as he could, hitting him in his left hand. Jay screamed in pain as his hand made an unpleasant crunch, and he dropped his sword. Jelo charged him again, but Jay sidestepped it and, grabbing the back of Jelo's head, rammed it into the portcullis as hard as he could.

Jelo fell to the ground, bleeding from his head. He tried to stand up, but Jay grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the portcullis.

"When I wring the life out of you," Jay said, "after I'm done with your friend, I want you to remember something. Inferno's victory is inevitable. This is only a setback. And in a hundred years, when this battle is written in the annals of history, nobody will ever remember you were here. You will have died for nothing!" He bashed Jelo's against the gate once more for good measure and watched as he slumped to the ground.

Kazehh bellowed a war cry and ran at Jay, who dove to the side at the last second. He saw that Kazehh had armed himself with the upper half of his broken axe, and backpedaled as Kazehh swung wildly with it. At last, Kazehh managed to strike Jay in the shoulder, lodging his weapon there, and wrenched it in.

"How's that feel, fucker? Eh? No more big talk, huh?" Kazehh spat on him as Jay groaned. Jay, in response, punched Kazehh in the groin. As Kazehh stepped back in pain, Jay wrenched the axe out of his shoulder and armed himself with it.

"Goddamn peasant!" Jay shrieked, and he swung at Kazehh. Kazehh stumbled backward, leading Jay to fall on top of him and try to push the axe head into Kazehh's throat, as Kazehh tried to hold him back. Even with only one hand available to him, Jay was exceptionally strong.

"You should've stayed in the gutters, where you belong!" Jay exclaimed. He pressed harder, and the edge of the axe met Kazehh's throat.

"Jay!" Someone exclaimed. Jay turned to see who had said his name.

Jelo, head bruised and bloody, stood in front of the gate with his morning star in hand. He charged at Jay who, entangled with Kazehh, was unable to evade. Jelo put the full force of his charge into a swing of his morning star, connecting with Jay's forehead. Jay was lifted into the air by the force of Jelo's strike and landed several feet away. He lay limp on the ground, blood gushing out of the fracture in his skull.

Jelo stumbled to the ground, still dizzy from being mashed into the portcullis. Kazehh rushed to his side, pulled him up, and propped him up next to the winch.

"You alright, bud?" Kazehh asked. Jelo winced and nodded.

"I think so. My head hurts like hell, but I'm alive," Jelo said. He turned to the slumped body of Jay. "Is he getting up again?"

"Not anytime soon. You busted his head wide open." Kazehh got a grip on the winch and began pushing. "Hey, we won, didn't we?" he asked as he pushed the winch with difficulty. Jelo gave him a thumbs up and coughed a little more.

Once the portcullis was open, Kazehh grabbed Jelo by the arm and helped him stand. Jelo was still dizzy, but lucid enough for Kazehh.

"Alright, Jelo," he said. "It's a clean shot to the exit. I say we book it, duck behind our lines and rest there. Sound like a plan?"

"As good a plan as you ever came up with," Jelo sarcastically remarked. He grinned. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Kazehh said. They laughed and ran as fast as they could out of the fortress and back to friendly lines.


	19. Chapter 19

**April 4, 9 ATC**

 **Chanel Castle, Duchy of Leporin, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Inferno stood outside the doors of her castle, watching the battle unfold. The outer wall had been breached, and League soldiers poured in like water through a breach in a boat's hull. A few soldiers had made it over the inner wall, but she had dispatched Jay to deal with it.

Inferno's soldiers had not routed the invaders yet, and that was cause for concern. She would have to fight herself, if things did not improve.

"My sword, my sword," Inferno muttered to herself, and she turned back into the castle. "I must get my sword."

Inferno paced briskly through the palace halls. It did not befit a queen to run, especially not when threats to her life were so (relatively) far away. Still, time was of the essence, and for all she knew League assassins could be crawling the building as she walked.

When Inferno arrived in her throne room, she was greeted with a sight much more disturbing to her than assassins: Scion Zissman, Champion Jannis and six other men carrying crates of papers through the secret escape passage underneath her throne. Jannis saw her and drew his massive broadsword, leveling it at her.

"Come no closer, my lady," he commanded. There was a certain forced brusqueness to his voice, an attempt to intimidate her. It failed.

"Traitor!" she shrieked, and she began pacing toward them. Jannis put both hands on his sword, but Zissman stepped in front of him and waved him down.

"No need, Jannis," Zissman said coldly. "Even she's not so foolhardy as to charge you."

"Traitor!" Inferno yelped again. Zissman smirked.

"We're the ones who backstabbed you, huh?" Condescension and indignation crawled into his tone. "We're not stupid. I know what you were trying to accomplish by making us the state church. It didn't work."

"I should have you flayed!" Inferno hissed. "Guards! To me! Kill these heretics!"

"Heretics!" Zissman scoffed. "After all our time together, and you still think of us as nothing but foreigners. Disappointing, but not unexpected."

From both side doors of the throne room, troops flooded in: from the left door came soldiers clothed in black leather armor: Anti's private guard. On the other, soldiers with the flaming rose of Enabler on their armor charged in. They drew their weapons, but upon seeing the Church soldiers, awkwardly froze.

Jannis and Zissman squinted at this; they had not expected such an odd reaction. Inferno, in response, clenched her fists.

"I gave you an order," she growled. "Follow it."

"With due respect, your highness," the leader of the Enabler soldiers said. "We have orders from Triumvir Faker not to interfere in a conflict between you and the Church."

Inferno's mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. Faker had turned against her? She looked at the Ladybuggish soldiers, wondering if their reasoning was the same.

"Baroness Anti has given us similar orders," the Ladybug captain said. Inferno cast an even more piercing glare at the Church members.

"You did this!" she yelled. Zissman shook his head, but he could not hide a grin.

"I didn't have anything to do with this," he said smugly, "which makes it all the more amusing. It was a good run, Inferno, but our partnership is now dissolved. Good luck, farewell, and may Coronam let your death be swift."

"NO!" Inferno yelled, and she sprinted toward Zissman and Jannis. They disappeared down the steps of the secret tunnel beneath the throne. Inferno followed, but as she flew down the steps, she heard the metallic clunk of a portcullis.

Jannis had closed the portcullis in the tunnel, which had been meant to stop intruders from giving chase if she ever needed to use the escape passage. She grabbed the bars and pressed against it, to no avail. On the other side, Jannis laughed as Zissman and the others made off with their stolen crates.

"My lady, you have no idea how long I've waited for this." Jannis sneered at her. "Keeping secrets from us, plotting against us, ordering us about like we were your peons, when in reality, you were nothing but a pawn to us. It made me sick to play the part, but now I don't have to."

"You'll pay for this," Inferno said through gritted teeth and the rusted iron of the portcullis. "I'll gut you myself!" Jannis merely chuckled.

"My lady, if you make it out of this alive, I'll let you do it. But I doubt it will come to that." He waved at her, waggling his fingers mockingly. "Ta-ta for now."

Inferno held her tongue as she watched Jannis disappear down the dark passage. Instead of shouting back, she turned and went up the steps and back into the now-empty throne room. As she pushed her throne back over the escape tunnel, a servant ran into the hall.

"Queen Inferno!" he yelled, in a panic. "The enemy has breached the inner wall! Our barricades are still holding strong, but it won't be long until they're broken. What do we do?"

Inferno exhaled and pursed her lips. They had done it. They had pierced the walls. It was only a matter of time until her castle was crawling with enemy soldiers.

A strange acceptance washed over Inferno. She knew her death was at hand. But damn it all, she would go down fighting.

"Fetch me my sword, servant," Inferno commanded. "If I die, then they're coming with me."

* * *

The battlefield was soaked in blood. Austin and Coronam danced through the battlefield, clashing sword and glaive with the weapons of Inferno's soldiers. Austin moved quickly and gracefully like a bird in flight, deflecting her opponent's attacks as she moved toward them before finally ending them quickly and cleanly, then moving on to the next. Coronam was far more aggressive: he swung his glaive around like a baton, butchering and maiming those he did not kill and leaving them for his soldiers to clean up as he moved to the next crowd. Eventually, Austin and Coronam met in the middle of the brawl.

"Coronam," Austin said. "Have we found a way into the castle?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Coronam said. "Unless we're going to circle around to the south end, which seems impossible, I guess we'll just thin the ranks and then climb the walls." He finished his sentence by impaling a soldier that had attempted to sneak up on him.

Austin nodded. "Well, we could—" She paused. "The portcullis just opened."

They turned to face the north gate of the inner wall, which was opening from the inside. They watched in astonishment as Kazehh and Jelo, both bruised and bloody, sprinted out from the gatehouse. Austin shrugged and turned to Coronam.

"As good as an opportunity as any," she remarked. Raising her sword in the air, she bellowed to her troops: "Men! Rally up and follow me! We'll have Inferno's head before nightfall!"

What soldiers were not stuck in the thick of battle, rallied behind Austin and Coronam as they ran to the open gate. As they ran through, though, a palace guardsman ran to the winch and sliced the chain, shutting the portcullis and sealing Coronam, Austin, and a half-dozen other soldiers on the inside of the inner wall. They were trapped.

"Shit!" Coronam cried, and he beheaded the soldier who cut the winch. He and Austin turned as a crowd of Inferno's soldiers exited the castle and charged toward them, swords and shields ready. In response, Coronam lifted his glaive and bellowed: "We'll gut them!"

Austin drew her sword and stepped in front of Coronam. "Now's not the time for theatrics, Coronam. Go. Find Inferno." She took a defensive stance. "We'll deal with the rubbish."

"You sure about that?"

"Inferno's a coward. She'll try to escape, if possible. We can't allow that. Go!"

Coronam didn't need to be told twice. As the guardsmen attacked Austin and her men, Coronam darted past them, running through the massive doorway into the palace foyer. He stopped to catch his breath, and heard the sound of palace guardsmen sprinting through the halls.

"The portcullis was opened!"

"We can't let them get in, men!"

"Let's slaughter them!"

The eager exclamations of the palace guardsmen came to a halt as they rushed into the room and saw that Coronam was standing there, his armor and weapons covered in blood. The guardsmen froze, knowing Coronam's reputation as a warrior, and then decided that there were enough of them to take one of him. The first one readied his spear.

"King Coronam!" he bellowed. "I command you—"

Coronam rammed his glaive into the man's throat, sending him to the ground with a sickening snap. In response, the other guards drew their swords and spears and moved to attack.

"I take commands from no one!" Coronam yelled, and he hacked off a guardsman's head. "Least of all Inferno's peons!"

Coronam twirled his glaive, deflecting the guardsmen's weapons and severing a few fingers. He ducked under an incoming sword and slashed the attacker in the abdomen, before ramming the point opposite the glaive's blade into another soldier standing behind him. Another series of twirls and slashes and three more fell down, leaving only an old man armed with a spear and a young woman who looked equally likely to faint as to attack. Coronam frowned.

"Look. I'm only looking for Inferno. Kindly tell me if she's still here and I'll leave you alive. Sound good?"

The older man switched his spear to his left hand, which still had all its fingers, and charged Coronam. Coronam easily sidestepped it and tripped the soldier before crushing his ribcage with the glaive. Coronam sighed and turned to the young woman, who was visibly shaking in her boots.

"So, little lady, how do you want to die? With my weapon in your chest, or in your own bed at a ripe old age?" He added a growl to his voice to frighten the girl more. She dropped her sword and raised her arms in surrender.

"Inferno's in the throne room! She says she's waiting for you!" The girl sank to her knees. "Please don't kill me!"

Coronam sighed. For some reason, this girl had a way of tugging at his heartstrings. Maybe it was because she looked a bit like Opifexa. Perhaps he went a bit overboard with the intimidation, he thought. He patted the girl on the shoulder.

"There, there, little lady. Stay here. When soldiers come, tell them Coronam guaranteed your safety. Okay?" The girl nodded and stayed stationary. Coronam readied his glaive and walked down the halls to the throne room.

Coronam was surprised to find that Inferno was alone. She was not in the royal robes she often wore, but in light, leather armor that seemed out of place on her. She sat on her throne looking melancholy, staring not at Coronam but through him. For some reason, it unnerved him.

"Inferno," Coronam growled. He rested his glaive on his shoulder. "Are you willing to surrender?"

Inferno laughed, a single deep chuckle from the back of the throat that had no humor in it. She continued staring at Coronam with her blank, lifeless gaze.

"Why? So I can be strutted around your capital like a caged bird? Or executed in front of thousands? I will not die with such indignity."

Inferno's gaze focused, and now she looked at Coronam with deep hate in her eyes. She stood.

"If I am to die, then it will be here, in my abode, on my terms." From the table next to her throne, she plucked a gleaming falchion and pointed it at Coronam. "Maybe I'll take you with me."

Coronam grinned maliciously and unshouldered his weapon. "Don't count on it."

Inferno chuckled again, though there seemed to be genuine amusement in her voice this time. "Such hubris," she admonished him. "I see myself in you."

Coronam opted not to respond. Instead, he charged her. Inferno nimbly leapt away, just out of Coronam's range, and swiftly swung back. She landed a glancing blow on Coronam's chin, barely enough to draw blood, but it told Coronam that she was more able with a blade than he would've given her credit for.

"You know how to use a sword," Coronam observed. Inferno smirked wryly.

"You thought I would be a pushover?" she asked. Coronam shrugged insincerely. "Then I'm pleased to prove you wrong," Inferno said.

Coronam resumed the attack, dealing wide, arcing blows that Inferno adeptly dodged. Seeing that strength would do him no favors, he took to quicker, whirling blows. Inferno stopped dodging and started deflecting.

"Ah, Coronam. When will you learn that brute force isn't always the path to victory? Sometimes you just have to wait for the opportunity to strike."

She finished her sentence by seizing a pause in Coronam's relentless assault to deliver a slash to the shoulder. Coronam grunted as the blade cut through a space in his armor but blocked a followup from Inferno.

"You talk too much," he stated. Inferno stepped up her offensive, her blade flying gracefully through the air, thrashing back and forth as Coronam tried to block them all. Tired of being on the defensive, Coronam pulled the bottom end of his polearm up and hit Inferno in the nose, drawing blood. He swung the blade down at her, but she dodged by a fraction of a second. Strutting backwards, Inferno laughed.

"Too slow, boy," she mocked him. "You're tired. I see it in your face. You've been slicing through my soldiers for how long now? A few hours at least. You're sluggish. You're _weak_ now. Just give up and _die!"_

Inferno unleashed a flurry of quick attacks, forcing Coronam back on the defensive. At last, she wore down his stamina, and a sideways swipe to his hand saw his glaive fall from it. Coronam fell back and struggled to get up.

"I will not die here," he defiantly spat. Inferno chuckled.

"It looks like you've made a liar of yourself," she chided. "Now shut up and I'll make it quick."

As Inferno raised her sword, the doors to the throne room burst open.

* * *

Nitesco and Gwydion ran through the halls of Inferno's castle and quickly got lost. The corridors and hallways twisted and turned, not unlike Celtic's castle all those years ago, though this castle was far better decorated.

"Hey, Nitesco?" Gwydion asked as they rounded another corner.

"Yes?"

"Do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Uh, no," Nitesco said. "But think of it this way: if we don't know where we're going, they can't plan against us, right?"

"I don't think that's how it works," Gwydion grumbled. Nitesco frowned.

"Well, it's not like we have another option besides running around and hoping," he said. The pair turned yet another corner and saw that, on one side of the corridor, two oak doors sat wide open.

"You think that's the throne room?" Nitesco whispered. Gwydion shrugged.

"It seems likely."

Nitesco patted him on the shoulder. "What did I tell you! I knew it would work!" Gwydion grumbled again, but willingly followed Nitesco as he crept through the doors.

As they walked in, their excitement disappeared: the room, though large and well-decorated, was not the throne room but instead the ballroom. Nitesco huffed and was about to leave when he heard two people talking.

"We're backed into a corner," a man said. "Our manpower is low, we're under siege, Inferno's probably lost her head and the Church has fucked off to who knows where. I say we cut our losses and flee."

"Then what?" A female voice, stained with irritation, responded. "Theoretically, we could book it west, but what happens next? We've aligned our nations with Inferno, and unless some support rises from the mists, we're pretty fucked after that if we don't leave the Subreddit borders."

Nitesco crept down the right set of stairs, motioning for Gwydion to go down the left. He looked at the two, and upon seeing them, recognized them as Anti of Ladybug and Triumvir Faker.

"I have contacts downriver," Faker proposed, "in the basin outside the borders. We could always head there until things cool down. It's as good an option as any."

"I suppose," Anti agreed. "Better some slimy river marsh than the League's prison."

Nitesco stood, taking the opportunity to reveal himself. "I disagree," he stated loudly, startling Anti and Faker. He laughed as Faker drew his rapier and Anti's hands went to the hilts of her daggers.

"Now, now, now. Let's not be hasty," Nitesco admonished them. "Prison is a far better option than death."

"Is it?" Anti asked. "You may be a war veteran, Nitesco, but you don't know what prison is like. I spent four years wallowing in a dungeon, and I'll die before I rot in there for forty more."

"I'll die before I ever see the inside of a Gunnian prison, Nitesco," Faker said defiantly, shaking his rapier at him. "Or before you ship me off to Contramundi's. Can you imagine the things he has in store for me? I'll not suffer it."

Nitesco, seeing that Gwydion had crept up behind them, smiled and quietly beckoned for him to subdue them. "I'm not Gunnian; I'm Rosian," Nitesco admonished Faker.

"What's the fucking-" Faker stopped as he felt Gwydion's swordpoint in his back. Anti froze too, feeling the barrel of Gwydion's infamous hand cannon pressed against the back of her head.

"Clever, Nitesco." Anti scowled. "But you should've just killed us."

Instantly, Anti had a dagger in her hand. The blade arced through the air and slicing Gwydion under his left eye. After staggering backward, Gwydion holstered his hand cannon and readied his sword. As Anti drew her second dagger and charged him, Nitesco vaulted over the stair railing to take on Faker.

Nitesco took the offensive on Faker, parrying his rapier's thrusts and making several swipes of his own. Faker rapidly backpedaled, deflecting Nitesco's swipes and slashes, planning to keep up the defensive until Nitesco inevitably tired, and an opportunity to riposte afforded itself.

"Careful there, buddy," Faker taunted. "You'll run out of energy."

Nitesco, in response, delivered a kick square in Faker's stomach before delivering an overhand slash. The slash was deflected, but Faker stumbled backward anyway.

"I may not be as young as I once was, but I'm still fit." Two more thrusts from Faker, who was attempting to shift back to the offensive. Nitesco sidestepped a stab and took a chunk out of Faker's cheek in his riposte. Faker scowled.

"You ought to watch your energy too, my friend," Nitesco taunted. "You can't stay on the defensive forever." Faker grimaced and met Nitesco's blade with his.

In the middle of the ballroom, Gwydion was faring worse. Anti was a quick hitter, slicing and dicing with her two daggers, but her reach was short enough for Gwydion to avoid or deflect most of her strikes, and the blows she did land were glancing. Still, he was on the defensive, and he didn't like that.

Anti shouted and charged him again, but Gwydion shouldered her. Anti noticed that he didn't fight like a normal soldier, like Nitesco. He relied on hand-to-hand maneuvers just as much as swordplay, boldly attacking Anti with jabs and punches from his off hand and interrupting her assaults with a well-placed shoulder or elbow. It was a mercenary's style.

Gwydion tried to take off Anti's head, but missed and sliced off only a stray strand of her hair. She chuckled.

"Poor Gwydion. Never the strongest. Never the fastest. Never the most skilled. It's a wonder you're still standing." She laced her words with condescension, hoping that venom would wear down his defenses faster than exhaustion.

"Maybe I'm not," Gwydion said. "But I'm the cleverest, and that counts for something."

Anti danced away from another of Gwydion's offhand punches, and she resumed the offensive. She repositioned the dagger in her right hand into a reverse grip and swung, hoping to take one of Gwydion's eyes. Unfortunately, Gwydion's incoming swing knocked the dagger out of her hand and onto the floor. Anti quickly responded by slicing Gwydion's sword hand with her remaining dagger, leading him to scream and drop his blade.

"Smart move," Gwydion commented. He unholstered his hand cannon, attempting to fire a shot into Anti to end the fight at last, but she grabbed his hand as he pulled the trigger and forced his arm up. The shot went up into the chandelier, shattering it and spreading glass over the pristine blue carpet.

Faker, who was still fighting Nitesco, flinched in surprise as the hand cannon fired; Nitesco took the opportunity to duck under Faker's incoming swipe and slash him in the hip. Faker somersaulted up, striking Nitesco on the chin, and backed away with his sword held in front of him. With one more slash and a kick, Nitesco knocked Faker's sword from his hand and forced Faker to the ground. He held his sword to Faker's throat, then took the opportunity to check up on Gwydion and Anti, only to see that Gwydion was now held at both gun and knifepoint.

"Nitesco!" Anti roared. She dug the dagger she held across Gwydion's throat in a little deeper, causing him to flinch. "Let Faker go, or Gwydion gets it." She pressed the hand cannon into the flesh underneath Gwydion's right eye, and he scoffed.

"You don't know how to use that thing," he chided, "and even if you did, it's unloaded."

"Both fair points," Anti conceded, "but I still have a knife to your throat, so shut up."

"Shit," Gwydion muttered to himself, barely audible. "Fair enough. Shutting up."

"Let him go, Anti," Nitesco said. "This won't end well for you if you don't."

"And why would I let him go?" Anti asked, more irritated. "So you can attack again? Not a chance."

"He's my friend and my advisor," Nitesco said. "I must guarantee his safety."

"Faker is the same to me," Anti said. "I must do the same."

"You're a merchant, aren't you, Anti?" Nitesco asked pointedly. "You're a negotiator at heart. The fact that you didn't slit Gwydion's throat when you had the chance means that you think you can negotiate with me."

"Am I right?" Anti asked, digging her dagger into Gwydion's neck to make sure Nitesco answered correctly. Nitesco nodded.

"You are. I propose an arrangement: you let Gwydion go, and I don't kill Faker or you. I'll let you go, and then you two can wander off to wherever you please. You avoid dying. You avoid prison. Sound fair?"

"Why bother negotiating, Anti?" Faker asked, still pinned by Nitesco's sword. He ignored the burning pain in his side and the blade at his throat. "I can get out of this. I say you slit that one's throat, and then we just kill this fool and be done with it!"

"I trust you've negotiated a hostage case at least once before, Anti," Nitesco said. Anti nodded. "Good. Then you know that you are at a disadvantage, because the moment your hostage dies, your leverage is gone and you are vulnerable.

"If you do kill him, then what? You charge me and kill me. Well, maybe if you had more training, or if Faker was in better shape, you could do it, but right now he's not in a position to help you."

"Fuck you, Nitesco," Faker spat, but he remained stationary. Nitesco ignored him.

"What say you, Anti? Do you really think you could take me on alone? And even if you could, why? It serves no purpose. You both clearly don't care about Inferno, so what's the point in killing either of us?"

"You attacked us!" Anti hissed. Nitesco sighed.

"Not entirely true. We wanted to take you alive. But what's done is done. I say you let Gwydion go, and we let you two go. No more bloodshed. No imprisonment. He walks, then you two walk. Sound like a plan?"

Anti grit her teeth and mulled it over for a few seconds, letting her grip on Gwydion's throat ease a little.

"Fine," she said. Anti kicked Gwydion in the back to create some distance between them and beckoned for Faker to follow her. At the same time Nitesco stepped away from Faker, allowing him to stand and retreat. Anti raised the hand cannon at Nitesco. "I'm keeping this," she declared, and she and Faker hurried out the door at the opposite end of the ballroom.

Nitesco walked over to Gwydion, who was on his hands and knees, panting.

"You alright?" Nitesco asked.

Gwydion fell back to a sitting position and winced. "Bitch took my hand cannon," he said.

Nitesco chuckled with relief. "We can replace the hand cannon, but we can't replace you." He offered his partner a hand and lifted him up. "Let's head back and check on the battle outside. We can come back in with reinforcements and search for Inferno later if the others haven't already found her."

"Sounds good," Gwydion breathed. He shook his head. "If we do get to Inferno, you're taking her. I am done fighting these people. Celtic's people were assholes, but at least you knew what you were getting. But these fools? Bonkers."

Slowly and steadily, the commanders went back the way they came, hoping their allies were having better fortunes.

* * *

"Stop!" someone yelled. Inferno flinched and turned, giving Coronam an opportunity. He reared up and punched Inferno in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she staggered backwards, Coronam pushed himself forward with his legs, ramming his head into Inferno and knocking her down. Moving along the ground, he scrambled for his glaive. Once he had it in his hands, he turned, kneeling, to see who had saved him from an untimely demise.

Austin stood in the archway of the throne room, bruised and bloody from her skirmish with the guards, but still standing. She smiled approvingly at Coronam and pointed a bloody sword at Inferno.

"Austin?" Inferno asked, still reeling. "Why have you come to save this sorry man? He's no better than I am. Frankly, you'd be better off with both of us dead."

"Maybe," Austin admitted, earning a disappointed glare from Coronam. With eyes on Inferno, she walked over to where Coronam rested on one knee. "But he's honest," she said, "and he's brave, and if nothing else, he's not nearly as much of a tyrant as you are."

"He's a sorry duelist," Inferno commented.

Austin looked down at Coronam's bloodstained face and worn-down, heavily breathing body. She reached out to him with her right hand.

"No one wins alone," she said.

Coronam smiled softly, grabbed her hand, and pulled himself up. Together, they turned to see Inferno getting back to her feet. Inferno's hands shook ever so slightly as she steadied herself.

Coronam set himself in a combat stance. "Keep your eyes on her," he advised. "She's fast. She'll catch you off guard if you give her the chance."

"Understood," Austin replied, readying herself. "Make sure you don't overextend. If you get too confident just because there's two of us, we could both pay the price."

Coronam nodded. "Understood."

Inferno's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Instinctively, she took a step back. They took a step forward, eyeing her with killing intent. Inferno braced herself and raised her sword. She fought down her fear and found, deep within herself, the will to fight.

"You were both dead the moment you got here," she declared.

In unison, Austin and Coronam attacked. The real fight began.

Austin was a much different fighter than Coronam. Coronam was irregular; his polearm allowed him long range and a diverse fighting style, but the awkwardness of the weapon hampered his ability to survive on the defensive. Austin, though, fought like a regular soldier, countering and swinging and stabbing, yet Inferno could not find a way to break through her guard.

Inferno howled and swiped at Austin, missing her eye by mere inches. Austin attempted a stab in response, leading Inferno to leap out of the way, only to narrowly dodge a sweep by Coronam. She grumbled and stepped back, parrying another few swings from Austin.

"Why have you done this?" Austin demanded. "Why cause all this pointless death?" Austin hoped that, on the off chance that Inferno had a conscience, she could pull on it a little bit and make her more vulnerable.

Inferno scoffed. Coronam took advantage of her brief lull to try and sweep her again, but Inferno stepped back. Austin charged her, and they locked swords.

"You were the ones that started this," Inferno said. She grit her teeth as she struggled against Austin. "You burned Enabler. You have no right to judge me."

Coronam struck again. This time his blow connected and drove a deep cut through Inferno's arm. She screamed in pain and fell backwards, but rolled just in time to escape Austin's lunge.

"You know what I'm talking about," Austin said, and she swung again at Inferno. Her swing was countered, and Inferno would've had the opportunity to stab her had not Coronam charged her. She blocked his swings and began railing on Coronam, giving Austin time to recover.

"Why else?" Inferno asked as she lunged at Coronam. "Power. I'm not so stupid as to wage a war on principle." Coronam hit her in the eye with the staff of his glaive, and Austin attacked. She managed to get Inferno in the hip, the tip of her sword plunging through Inferno's leather armor. The queen backed away and threw up a defensive stance.

"You are a treacherous, greedy swine," Coronam sneered, "and I will butcher you like one!"

"Give up, Inferno," Austin said. "You don't have to die today."

"We're all going to die," Inferno said listlessly.

"Very well." Austin and Coronam spoke in unison, unnerving Inferno. Realizing she could not win against the two of them, Inferno sheathed her falchion and ran.

"What? Coward!" Coronam began yelling incoherently as Inferno ran down a long hallway. He quickly gave chase, Austin following close behind.

The pair advanced up a tight stone spiral staircase, Austin followed silently as Coronam yelled profanities up the stairs. After what felt like hundreds of stairs, they emerged on the roof of Inferno's castle. The outdoor wind was blowing hard, and the sky above was tinged orange by the setting sun. Several opaque glass peaks rose from the flat stone of the roof, concealing Inferno's location from them.

"Shit," Austin muttered. "Coronam, you go left. I'll go right." Coronam nodded, and they split up.

Austin crept around a corner, sword drawn, on edge at the prospect of being ambushed. She prowled across the roof, scanning every possible hiding space: behind the crates of arrows, a large coil of rope, the platforms the ballistas on the roof rested on. As she inspected behind a group of stacked crates, Austin heard footsteps behind her, and barely had time to duck out of the way before Inferno brought her falchion down onto the ground.

"Coronam!" Austin called. She stumbled to her feet and locked swords with Inferno as, in her peripheral vision, she saw Coronam running to her aid.

"Pathetic!" Inferno spat, and she backed away. Coronam arrived and stood with Austin, watching Inferno slink back slowly. Her face was bruised and bloody from their confrontation downstairs, and her arrogant demeanor had given way to desperation. Austin looked at Coronam; he did not seem to be enjoying himself, much to her surprise. He seemed almost sad. Austin supposed she did too.

"You can't even defeat me alone!" Inferno said. "You're all rats. You should've drowned in my glory."

"You built a house out of rotting wood," Coronam said. The malice in his voice had disappeared, replaced by disappointment. "Of course rats got in."

Inferno said nothing. She leaped at Coronam, flailing wildly with her sword, but even Coronam, tired though he was, managed to defend against it. Inferno, seeing her assaults were useless, punched Coronam in the stomach. As Coronam stumbled backwards, Inferno lunged at Austin. Austin parried the blow and, grabbing Inferno's wrist, rammed her into the roof railing. Inferno dropped her falchion off the edge and collapsed, defeated and unarmed.

Austin leveled her sword at Inferno. "So, you still won't surrender?"

Defiance returned to Inferno's expression, and she grabbed the railing and heaved herself up. With a hateful glare, she spat on Austin.

"Never."

"Then you've brought this on yourself!" Coronam said. He brandished his glaive menacingly and walked over to her. "Any last words?"

Inferno, instead of offering more threats, balled her fists and sneered at Coronam. "This Subreddit will burn," she said. "You've brought this on yourselves. It will not be me who casts your bodies into the river, but you will die. Retribution is coming, and you will all pay for this."

Coronam sighed. "I've heard enough," he stated, and he rammed his glaive into Inferno's stomach.

She gasped in pain and sank to her knees, blood flowing from the open wound. Inferno grabbed the staff of Coronam's weapon and brought her face as close to his as she could.

"This… isn't over!" she sputtered. Austin, with a final, understanding nod, put her hand on Inferno's shoulder and her sword through Inferno's lung.

"Yes," Austin said softly. "It is."

She and Coronam pulled their weapons out of Inferno at the same time, watching impassively as she gurgled and clutched at her wounds before falling down to her hands and knees. Inferno spat up a glob of blood and stared hatefully up at the two of them.

"You don't… understand," she choked out. "They… killed me. They… will kill… you too…" At last, Inferno slumped to the ground, gurgling and gasping, until she finally went silent.

Coronam, in lieu of any witty comments or laughter, merely sat down on a crate of arrows. He steepled his fingers, deep in thought.

"You know," he said to Austin. "I'd hoped that I would feel better than this. Inferno was my rival. A thorn in my side for quite some time. I had hoped this would make me feel happy, or vindicated, or at least smug. But now? I just feel tired."

"Not too tired, I hope," Austin said, peering over the edge. "There's still a whole battle to win down there."

Coronam sighed. "Of course there is." He walked over to Austin and peered over the edge with her. He grumbled.

"Now what?" Coronam asked, irritated. Austin turned to Inferno's bloody, lifeless body, then to a coil of rope sitting out next to a ballista. She turned to Coronam, a grim idea in her mind.

"I have an idea."

* * *

When Inferno's soldiers looked up, they saw their defeat. They saw their queen's bloodied body hanging from the parapets like that of a common criminal. They saw Austin and Coronam, two of the three faces of their nemesis, the Badaz League, standing over it, and they knew they had lost. Their resolve shattered, and what soldiers were unable to escape in the chaotic retreat simply surrendered, unwilling to fight any longer. The day was won.

It was evening when Austin and Coronam met the others in the throne room, which still bore scrapes and bloodstains from their duel with the queen. Nitesco and Austin were reviewing the rosters of their supplies and men, while Coronam and Vulpix surveyed a map of the region and planned further strikes.

"So, am I right to assume your confrontation went well?" Nitesco asked offhandedly. Austin and Coronam exchanged glances and shrugged.

"It was pretty straightforward," Coronam said. "We fought, we won, we hung her from the parapets. How about you?"

"It got a little hairy," Nitesco confessed. "Gwydion was held hostage for a moment."

"Is he alright?" Vulpix asked. Nitesco nodded.

"A little shaken and a little bruised, but the only thing he lost was his hand cannon. It could've been much worse."

Gwydion and Jelo walked back from the wings of Inferno's castle, carrying a large chest. They lowered it down in front of the commanders and opened it, revealing a large pile of gold.

"It's curious," Gwydion noted. "In Inferno's study, we found two things: a large, secret wall safe, and an underground vault."

"What's so important about that?" Austin asked.

"Nothing, I think. Just odd what I found in there. In the wall safe, there were huge chests of gold and silver and whatnot. It wasn't very convincingly hidden either. The underground vault was locked and hidden under a carpet. It led down to a large room filled with empty bookshelves."

"What kind of looters go for books instead of gold?" Jelo wondered aloud.

"And who did it anyways?" Nitesco asked. "Not our men."

"We can figure that out later," Vulpix said. "Right now, we have—"

"Coronam!" Kazehh exclaimed. He walked into the throne room, holding a scared young woman by the arm. Coronam instantly knew who it was.

"The other men found her sitting near a bunch of dead guards," Kazehh explained. "She says—"

"I know what she says, thank you," Coronam said. "She's telling the truth. Let her go." Kazehh nodded and let go of the young woman, who nodded awkwardly to Coronam and quickly walked out. Austin cast a knowing smile in his direction.

"What was that about?" Jelo asked. Coronam merely shrugged, a mischievous smile on his face.

"It's not important," Vulpix said. "Right now, we should focus on our next offensives."

"'Zealander,'" Austin said. "We just won. Inferno is dead. Her castle is ours. I'll admit, we lost a good portion of our men, but we have more than enough in reserve, and reinforcements are arriving soon, along with most of our junior officials. Whatever tomorrow has to offer, we can take it. But we can take it tomorrow. Right now, I want to sleep in a bed with sheets and a mattress, not on a cot in a tent. Sound reasonable?"

Vulpix scanned the faces of those around him, and seeing that they all agreed with Austin, he relented.

"Very well. We can plan in the morning. I guess I'd like some rest too."

"I killed Inferno," Coronam said, and he began walking away. "I get the master bedroom."

"Oh, like hell you did!" Austin called after him, but she laughed.

"I opened the gates," Kazehh said. "Whatever the next-best room is, I get it."

"You?" Jelo asked. "I saved your ass from Jay! You wouldn't have been alive to open them if I hadn't been there!"

"Yeah, but it was my idea in the first place," Kazehh shot back. Their bickering continued as they walked off into the wrong wing of the palace.

"They've got to have diplomat's quarters somewhere," Gwydion pondered aloud, following Coronam. Vulpix shook his head and did the same.

Austin and Nitesco found themselves alone in the throne room. Nitesco turned to Austin and gave her a wry smile.

"How's it feel to be a hero?" he asked. Austin looked down with a bittersweet smile.

"I didn't expect there to be this much death," she admitted. "But I'm glad I did this. I feel… I feel like I did something." She turned away from Nitesco, getting a little teary-eyed, and Nitesco laughed warmly.

"Oh, Austin." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know your father would be proud."

"You think so?" Austin asked. Nitesco nodded.

"I know so. I'm proud of you. He would be too."

"Thank you, Nitesco," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Now, come on. I don't want to get stuck sleeping in the servant's quarters."

Nitesco laughed with her, and they walked off into the palace together. With their enemy defeated, they took an evening to enjoy their victory and appreciate being alive.


	20. Chapter 20

**April 8, 9 ATC**

 **Somewhere near the Crack River, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth**

Zissman sat at a small, dank desk in his room, reading Scripture by candlelight. It had been a few days since Inferno fell, and the Badaz League had eagerly spread news of her death. According to reports, she was hung from the parapets of her castle, and her body was then buried in an unmarked grave. A most undignified fate, Zissman thought.

He and the men with him had traveled downriver to Inferno's designated meeting point: an ancient mausoleum, repurposed and rebuilt as a safehouse in case things went awry. Already, Zissman had sent out letters to the nobles of Inferno's realm, telling them of what had happened and where to regroup and discuss the future of the war. Success was in his grasp.

Of course, now Zissman had to tidy up his affairs before he could move on. He had to wait for everything to fall into its proper place; an infuriating requirement when he was so close to achieving his goals.

Zissman shook his head and cleared his mind, refocusing on the Scripture passage he was reading:

 _And the Red Maiden said to the White Maiden, "Be patient, my love. Does the farmer reap his fields when his crops are half-grown? Does the tax collector take what is due before the harvest? No, they do not. Seek only good and be patient in seeking. For I say to you and all others, if you let greed and eagerness cloud your vision, you will grasp at plenty and find only dust."_

A knock on Zissman's chamber door startled him from his ruminations. Sighing, he closed his book.

"Come in," he grumbled. Jannis opened the door.

"Forgive me, Scion, but I have some very interesting news for you." Jannis stood partially in the doorway to suggest that Zissman should follow him out. Zissman frowned and stood.

"Okay, Jannis. I'll bite." Jannis nodded and exited, and Zissman followed. As they walked through the damp stone hallways of the safehouse, Zissman wondered what could be so important. At last, they exited the safehouse and went out onto the docks, which were obscured from the outside by a thicket of trees and heavy foliage. Faker and Anti stood uncomfortably on the docks, glancing around nervously.

Zissman smiled as Jannis walked back inside. "Anti! Faker!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm. "How kind of you to join us."

"Yes," Faker said dryly. "You know, if you wanted to talk to us, you could've just sent us a letter instead of intercepting our boat. Your men are very rude."

"I had nothing to do with how you got here," Zissman said, "but now that you are, we might as well make the best of it."

"We've been battered about the Crack River for four days in a rowboat," Anti said. Her tone was flat, almost exasperated. "I really don't have the patience for games."

"I plan to take Inferno's place at the head of this war," Zissman said plainly. "You two have been with me since I came to the Subreddit. You helped me begin this war and you helped me install Inferno. You were there before her and you're here after her. Isn't it fitting that you should be around to finish this?"

"We made a deal with you four years ago," Anti said. "You don't need to convince me. I am a woman of honor; I will see it through."

"Agreed," Faker said. "I made this pact for a reason, and I intend to see it through. If it gives me the chance to take Enabler back from Contramundi, all the better."

Zissman smiled and clapped his hands. "Fantastic. I regret that this little safehouse of ours is quite… compact. Don't worry, though, you won't be here for long."

Anti nodded quietly and allowed the Church guards to lead her into the safehouse. Faker remained outside, looking at the river.

"Zissman," he said, somewhat concerned. "You should know—"

"Scion!" One of Zissman's men interrupted them, marching up the knotted slope with a grim expression. "We found something in the boat. A body, sir, with a Crossharish uniform."

"I'll be there in a moment," Zissman said. He beckoned for Faker to follow him down to the dock. "Is that what you were about to tell me?"

Faker nodded. They stopped at the dock, and Zissman peered into the boat. The captain of Inferno's honor guard, Jay, lay in the boat, severe bruises and contusions blemishing the right side of his head.

"We found him wandering around the paths outside the battlefield," Faker explained. "He was barely responsive. When Anti and I stole our boat from a nearby village, we took him along for the ride, thinking maybe we could use him. Instead he falls into a coma. Barely woke up for food or drink. Hasn't said a word in three days."

Zissman nodded. Perhaps Jay could be of some use to them.

"Let me take care of it, Faker," Zissman said. "You run along and find your lodgings. I'll handle Jay." Faker nodded uneasily at the undertones in Zissman's voice, but he obeyed.

Zissman remained on the dock, looking over Jay. His breathing was shallow, and he was covered in dried blood; apparently neither Anti nor Faker had decided to clean him up. But he was alive, and Zissman could still see a flicker of stubborn determination stained on Jay's expression. The Scion folded his hands and sighed.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked. "What will I do with you?"

* * *

He awoke in darkness. His vision was swimming and filled with splotches of light, but he was quite certain his eyelids were open. He had a head-splitting headache, though, and even opening his eyes seemed a chore. He tried to sit up, but was instantly struck by a wave of dizziness, and collapsed back down onto whatever he was laying on.

"You're awake?" A male voice spoke, startling him. He sat up and squinted into the darkness, making out only a single person. The man was dressed in fine red-and-white robes, but was facing away from him, standing over a table. He wore a red cape with a sigil of a white rose on the back. It beckoned to him, oddly.

The man walked over to his side and touched the side of his head lightly. Instantly, his head exploded in pain, and he yelped. The man removed his hand, startled, but eased him back down onto the table.

"Easy, son. You took quite a hit to the head. Better rest for a while longer."

"Who are you?" he asked. The man scratched his thin beard and smiled.

"I am Scion Irving Zissman of the Church of Thorns, but you may call me Zissman."

He shook his head. Zissman seemed kind enough, but what was this Church of Thorns he spoke of? Where was he? He tried to think back on what had happened the day before that would've led him here, but he found that he could not remember. Concerned, he thought back farther, trying to grasp anything that might've led him here, but found that he could recall nothing of what happened before he woke up. He could remember nothing at all, and the scope of that loss dawned on him slowly.

"Who am I?" he asked. Zissman sighed, and his smiled faded.

"Who you were matters little," Zissman said. "It is who you are now that matters." He found Zissman's voice soothing, and he let his head fall back onto the table.

"And who am I now?" he asked. He found himself wondering about his identity again. Strangely, he found himself caring little for whatever identity he had before. He had only a curiosity for what Zissman had to say.

Zissman, however, said nothing, instead fetching one of several books from the table he was previously standing at. "Do you mind if I read a passage from this book?"

"Not at all," he said. He was quite interested in what Zissman had to say.

Zissman flipped through the book until he found the page he wanted, cleared his throat and began: " _As she said she would, the Red Maiden ventured to the top of Mount Draco, at the summit of which was the Pool of Forgetfulness. There, she meditated for three days and three nights, resisting the temptation of release from her solemn duty. At last, she completed the trial, and resolved to return to her three companions at the base of the mountain._

" _But Queen Cinder had heard of the Red Maiden's plans, and sent an assassin to kill her and end her mission. But when the assassin arrived, dagger in hand, he was surprised to see only a young woman there, resting by the waters, and he felt doubt about his mission."_

He felt the truth of Zissman's words coming to rest in his mind. Something about this story held a certain credence to it, a certain truth that he hadn't felt before. He leaned in, enthralled by Zissman's book.

"' _Woman,' he said. 'Make your peace.' And he prepared to kill her. But the Red Maiden responded: 'Why would you kill me in this holy place? What crime have I committed?' And the assassin said, 'I know not of any crimes you have committed, but my queen decrees you must die, and so it must be._

" _But the Red Maiden rebuked him, saying, 'I have committed no wrongdoing. I have broken none of our ancestral laws. To kill an innocent person is a grievous sin, and to kill one at such a holy place is a crime in itself. Your queen commands both, and as it is written, any man or woman who commands another to commit a sin is just as guilty as the one who carried it out. Repent, and drink of the Waters of Forgetfulness, and you will be forgiven.'"_

" _And the assassin felt the truth of her words. He drank from the Pool, and lost the old sinner to the waters. And he turned to the Red Maiden a new man. So she christened him Draco, for the mountain of his rebirth, and took his dagger and gave him a sword. So they descended the mountain, and Draco continued to serve her for the rest of her days."_

He longed to hear more, to be taught more of what Zissman had shown him, but Zissman closed the book and set it on the table. He returned to him and caressed his face.

"Do you understand, my child?" he asked. "Do you know who you are?"

He nodded. "I am Draco," he said, and it came so easily. He let the words form on his tongue, feeling them out, testing them for truth, and found that they rang true. "I am Draco."

"Indeed you are," Zissman said. "You are Draco, the sword of the Church. The Goddess has cleansed you of your past wrongdoings and given you a second chance. Follow the Church, obey the Church, and you will be saved."

"Yes," Draco said. "Yes, I will follow. The Goddess has saved me. I must repay her." Draco said the words dreamily, not understanding fully, yet they made so much sense in his mind.

"You will, in time," Zissman said. He noted the disappointment his comment brought in Draco with satisfaction. Eagerness to serve was a promising trait. "But you must rest, my child. You cannot take on the Church's enemies in your condition. Rest and heal, and your time will come. I promise."

Draco nodded. Zissman noted the complete transformation of Jay's old stubbornness and skepticism into Draco's new obedience and zeal. Most promising indeed, he thought.

"Go back to sleep," Zissman said. "I'll return in the morning to see how you are." Draco obeyed and lowered himself back down onto the table. He closed his eyes and Zissman left.

A most promising conversion, Zissman thought. He had regained his old allies in Anti and Faker, send out couriers to Inferno's allies to ensure their obedience, and now he had a zealous warrior at his beck and call. Jannis was a fine general, and an exceptional intimidator, but sometimes what Zissman needed was a mindless brute to smash things. Perhaps that would come in handy when he met with Inferno's vassal lords.

Everything was in its proper place. Soon, the Church would rise.

* * *

 **That's a wrap, folks, but we aren't done yet. Stay tuned for part two: Meta-Fic II: New Gods!**


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